Perfect
by Tine
Summary: Ron returns to his fifth year feeling like he's at the end of his rope. He finds his fiends and family are in immense danger, and that scares him. Written PreOotP. Character death. Very angsty.
1. Prologue

Perfect  
  
  
  
Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: This story is a songfic to Perfect by Simple Plan. I heard it and I thought Hey.... a story is just begging to be written. So I wrote this. Oh.... Ron might be a little OOC. But consider this.... you get to the summer holidays, neither of your best friends send you letters for whatever reasons, your family barely says two words to you all summer, you start reading the articles that are showing up in the paper about Voldemort, and finally you realize there are things going on around you that you have no control over. You're probably going to change drastically. So if Ron's OOC, sorry. I think it's awesome OOC! This is my first time posting up anything I've written. Only my friends and teachers have read my writing. Until now! R&R!  
  
Thanks to my wondeful beta-reader, Scott. Thanks so much! I probably wouldn't have finished this if you hadn't convinced me to send it to you, complimented it, and told me to finish it. Love ya!  
  
XOXOXOX  
  
Prologue  
  
*** 'Cause we lost it all, Nothing lasts for ever, I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
Simple Plan, Perfect ***  
  
I watch my fellow classmates. They all look so happy. They look like my outward mask. The one that smiles and laughs and makes funny cracks about his teachers. The one who doesn't laugh when Neville Longbottom spills his potion all over the floor, the one who puts up with being second best. The one who lets people surpass him. The fake me. The real me...... you don't want to know.  
  
The real me is hardly ever happy. But when it is, the happiness is sparked by another's pain. The real me laughs so hard he cries from mirth when Neville Longbottom spills his potion all over the floor. The one who accidentally let his real emotions get to him when his best friend decided to beat him again. The one who refuses to let people surpass him. The real me. So now what do you think?  
  
I loathe the whole world. As far as I'm concerned, the world can just turn its back on me, while I turn my back on it. I'll never be able to look someone in the eyes and say "Isn't this a beautiful world?" Why? Because it isn't. There's war, evil, poverty, death and worse. What's to live for? What do I say to people like Ginny, who ask me what life is worth living for.  
  
"Nothing. It's not worth living for. You might as well just take a gun, put it to your head and pull the trigger. Do it before someone else gets the chance. We all die. Some of us less horrible than others. There really isn't any point in living, little Ginny, so why don't you go run along now and hang yourself."  
  
Oh how I'd love to say that, but the fake me puts on a grin and says, "Well no one really knows... but there's got to be some reason, hasn't there? We can't just all be wasting our lives, getting up in the morning, going to class/work/strip club, eating a little and then going to sleep/more strip clubs." A bit of humor thrown in to get Ginny to laugh.  
  
But really.... perhaps we are all just wasting our time doing stupid things. Trying to make ourselves interesting to people who will never care or even notice. Humans are cruel to each other. It's human nature to save yourself during a fire, rather than save a crying child. We might do it but there's still that hestitation... the thought that occurs to you. "Who gives a shit about a dumb baby?" I mean.... you'll end up grabbing the baby and running for your life and if you don't then you're more cruel than most humans. The fact is, they really don't care.  
  
So if someone says "Oh it was the least I could do!" you wonder... is it really the least? What's the best you could do?  
  
Life is just not worth living.... but it's not as though I could really end it. I'm terrified of the pain, and not only that.... if I'm going down, I'm going down with something to say. I'm not just going leave some note. I'll stand up in front of a bunch of people, tell them what I'm thinking now and then shoot myself in the head. Big impact. We all have horrible lives, some worse than others. But I feel safe gambling all of the gold in Gringotts that I have one of the worst.  
  
Let's starts with wealth. Going to school with hand-me-downs every damn day of my life is just a reminder of how not so well-off I am. In a way, I blame people like Malfoy, who have got money and power and recognition, and in others, I blame my parents. I love them and whatever, but if you don't have enough money to take care of seven children, you shouldn't have had them in the first place. Then there are the people who think I'm some sort of charity case. I may not have enough money for things but I don't need people giving me any. I really don't. So all those people like Harry, who will buy me a Chudley Cannons hat and omniocluars and god knows what else should just bugger off and stop worrying about me.  
  
Then there's where I stand. I'm not the coolest, like Bill. Not the most successful, like Charlie. Not smart, like Percy. Not funny, like Fred and George. Not adorable, like Ginny. I shall never have any recognition, for I'm not really good at anything. Except chess and what help is that? I'll never have a good job like the rest of my family. They'll probably make loads of money. But me..... I got a king, a queen and eight pawns. Spiffing.  
  
Then there's the fact that I never do anything right. I tried Quidditch and couldn't do it, I'm rubbish at all my subjects, I'll not be Prefect and I'm not even slightly attractive. So when does all that "You'll be great in Gryffindor!" come in. It's what the Sorting Hat said. So far, it lied.  
  
I guess I'm here on the earth to tell Malfoy to shut up, Hermione to stop acting like a know-it-all and Harry to take it easy. When I compare my life with Harry's, it's the only one I can find worse than mine. I can't imagine what I'd do if I had no parents and was forced to live with horrible sodding muggles. Anti-magic ones at that. It must be horrible to be fifteen years old and already have met your mortal enemy, not to mention faced him four times, once when you were just a little baby, and had only just had your parents murdered by him.  
  
Maybe that's why I don't top myself. Because if Harry can go through all he's gone through, which is a lot worse than what I have, then I guess I can too. But it can be so diffcult. How does everyone deal? I just want to.... I don't even know what I want to do. Typical. What else would you expect?  
  
Ronald Weasley..... Problem Child. That's what the headlines will say if I ever snap and do something I'll be a coward for doing. But I won't do it. Because I know there's still people like Harry in the world. And perhaps - perhaps, someone like me out there as well.  
  
  
  
That was the Prologue. I hope you've got the drift of the story so far. The next chapter will be up in a week. Unless no one reviews, in which case, I'll just remove it. Please review!!!!  
  
-Tine 


	2. Chapter One

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: After almost a week, I've gotten a total of two reviews! Yes! I'm so happy. No sarcams at all. I'm absolutely ecstatic.  
  
As always, thanks to Scott. You're an awesome beta-reader! I love you!  
  
XOXOXOX  
  
Chapter 1  
  
*** What about friendship? What about friends? You said the whole world was against you, And it all had to end.  
  
Maren Ord, Perfect. ***  
  
"Harry," Hermione huffed, slamming her fork down on the table, "you have to eat something." Harry looked up angrily.  
  
"I said I'm not hungry!" Harry said, exasperatedly. I tried to ignore the new argument. They had been going at it like this for months. They fought over everything. Usually, they were back to talking five minutes after the argument. It was December and nothing I tried worked. Ignoring them, staying neutral, choosing sides, or whatever else came to mind. This argument started because Harry wasn't eating and Hermione was worried. And I.... I was reading Hogwarts: A History. Funny how Hermione nags me to read things and when I finally start, she doesn't even notice. I turned the page, completely enthralled in what I was reading. I had never known Hogwarts was so interesting. I had almost tuned out Hermione and Harry's conversation when I caught a few words and listened anyway.  
  
"... so damn stubbourn!" Hermione said. Ooh.... Hermione cussing. She was mad now. The next thing that happened came and went very fast. Harry's hand shot out and he grabbed Hermione's wrist. For a boy who didn't look very strong, he sure did pull Hermione far into the table. She gasped for breath as Harry kept his grip on Hermione.  
  
"Hermione Granger, keep your big nose out of other people's business. If I'm not hungry one morning, it's nothing to go balistic over!" Harry growled and the next thing I knew I'd reached across the table, grabbed Harry's hand and loosened its grip on Hermione's wrist so she could pull free. She looked absolutely terrified. We were seeing Harry in a new light. And not necassarily a good one.  
  
"Harry," I said angrily, but he shot me a look and I changed what I'd wanted to say to something more appropriate, "why did you do that to Hermione?"  
  
"She pissed me off," he answered. Oh how I wanted to connect me fist with his face. I didn't of course. That would be something for the real me to do. I looked up at Hermione and could see she looked very hurt and was on the verge of tears.  
  
"But you've made her cry," I said and that did it. Harry's head rose slowly and he saw that indeed Hermione had tears rolling down her face. I'm sure that if there had been no table between them, Harry would have launched himself forward and thrown his arms around Hermione comfortingly. But all he did was whisper an apology to her and then ask Hermione to show him where he'd done it. She did and I was surprised to see she had nail marks in her wrist. But I decided to divert my attention back to Hogwarts: A History and continued reading. Maybe this time Hermione would notice.  
  
****  
  
I walked into class and sat down. We had Double Potions and I was not very happy about it. But instead of skiving off, like I'd wanted to, I placed my homework on my desk and put my bag next to my cauldron.  
  
While I waited for Snape to come to class, I pulled my book out of my bag and began to read again. Suddenly Hermione sat herself down on the right side of me, Harry on the left. I had a feeling they weren't speaking to each other. It made me think of all the times Hermione and I had fought, or the one time Harry and I had fought. I didn't want to put myself in the middle so I continued reading. Hermione leaned forward and read over my shoulder and wildly stood up, pointing.  
  
"My goodness Ron!" she shouted and I was inwardly pleased, "Reading Hogwarts: A History!" I tried not to blush, but I knew I was.  
  
"Yeah, well I -" I began.  
  
"I'm so happy!" Hermione cried and plonked herself down on her chair again because Snape had entered the classroom. Snape decided not to ask why Hermione was so happy and simply did the attendance. When Hermione's name had been called she immediately grabbed my arm.  
  
"You're reading!" she cried. And she sounded as though she meant in general, "I'm so happy. Where are you?"  
  
"I'm here," I said.  
  
"No, I meant -"  
  
"Weasley," Snape called.  
  
"I'm here," I said for the second time. I closed my book, knowing I was the second to last person on the list, and put it back in my bag. I looked up and saw that Hermione looked slightly put out.  
  
"I just got past the part about not being able to apparate on Hogwarts grounds," I answered and her eyes lit up.  
  
"So," Snape began stepping forward, "Today's potion will be rather easy but I want to be sure that you do it correctly. In teams of three that you may choose as I don't really care if you fail on this test." There were many choruses of 'yes!' and 'all right!' "What are you waiting for? Go get the proper ingredients to make the Anti-Allergy potion." Hermione opened her textbook to the page and took charge right away.  
  
"All right Ron, go and get some lace wings, some armadillo bile, some spiders and fill the cauldron with the potion Snape has on his desk. Harry, you and I can start with the proposal." Harry merely nodded and I stood up to get the ingredients. I found the lace wings and the armadillo bile all right but when I got to the spider jar it was fairly obvious these spiders had to be put in the potion alive. I turned around, went back to the desk and put the ingredients I had found on the table. Then I proceded to fill the cauldron. I placed it on our table and sat down.  
  
"Er - Ron...." Hermione began, "the spiders aren't here." It seemed she had forgotten my enormous fear of spiders. "Go get them, we really need them for this potion." She looked rather busy crushing the lace wings while Harry was stirring the potion with the ladel.  
  
I slowly made my way to the cupboard with the ingredients in it. The only other person there was Malfoy and he was standing in front of the jar of live spiders. I stepped up, pretending to busy myself with the lace wings.  
  
"Weasley.... I hear you don't much like spiders," Malfoy said and I turned to look at him.  
  
"They're not my favourite animal, no." I glanced at the jar Malfoy was holding and visibly shuddered. "I need a few of those actually, so if you woudn't mind passing me the jar, I would be grateful." I was surprised at my politeness.  
  
"Oh this jar?" he asked taking the lid off the jar.  
  
"Yeah that jar..." I said trying to steady my voice. I could see they were rather big spiders.  
  
"Why of course you can have it...." he said, "catch." And he tossed it lightly.... but there was no top on it. I stepped aside and it made contact with the floor, smashing into many pieces. The spiders scuttled around and the only thing my brain was telling me was to get away from them. So I quickly jumped on top of one of the stools. Malfoy turned and walked back to his desk, leaving me standing on the stool, spiders all around it. Not to mention the entire class was staring at me, including Professor Snape.  
  
"Weasley! Get off that stool," Snape ordered.  
  
"No way," I answered, my voice a few pitches higher than normal.  
  
"What happened?" Snape demanded, stepping up to the spiders. He said an incantation and the spiders were back in the (fixed) jar. I got off the stool.  
  
"Malfoy threw the jar at me and I stepped aside to avoid it," I answered.  
  
"Is this true Mr Malfoy?" he asked.  
  
"Of course not!" Malfoy cried in fake outrage. It was enough for Snape.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor and as a punishment you're going to take the spiders you need out of this jar and put them in the potion yourself." I stared dumbfoundedly at the potions teacher.  
  
"Like hell I am," I said and walked over to Hermione and Harry. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I picked up my bag and left the classroom, slamming the door loudly behind me.  
  
****  
  
After storming out of Potions class, I retired to the Gryffindor Common Room. I'd already been interrogated by half of the people there and it had only been an hour. Hermione, Harry and I were doing our homework. People kept interrupting us to ask me questions and it was getting highly irritating.  
  
"Where should I look to find information on these ridiculous house movement things?" I said in a rather frustrated tone of voice. Hermione looked up at me distractedly and said;  
  
"Have you tried the Divinition textbook?"  
  
"Oh," I said, and opened Unfogging The Future to the right page. I raised my quill to write something down but it was wrenched out of my hand and thrown to the ground. I looked up, absolutely furious. Fred and George had seated themselves at our table.  
  
"All right!" George shouted, "who did it?"  
  
"Yes... spill." Fred said. (A/N: It rhymes! LOL!)  
  
"Spill what?" I snapped, angry that they were being so idiotic. I'm acting like Hermione. I must stop that.  
  
"Which one of you did the remarkable, the unthinkable, the I'm- Gonna-Die-Tomorrow-So-I-Might-As-Well-Do-It?" George blubbered on. The three of us stared at George.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.  
  
"There's a rumor going around school that a student - a male student - is dating Professor Snape. Do we have reason to suspect you?" Fred questioned.  
  
"Hmmmm, let me just scan my memories for one where I'm dating Snape..... nope, don't see one. You're insane," I added shortly. Fred and George burst into hysterical laughter and fell to the floor. They lay like that for many minutes, cluthing their chests, revelling in their own strange humor. When they'd finally finished, Fred got to his feet and clapped me hard on the back.  
  
"Good work Brother, we're tremendously proud of you!" he announced. Ah, so that's what this had been about. I grabbed my brother and twisted his wrist around.  
  
"Go get me the quill you snatched out of my hand moments ago!" I ordered him and let go of his hand. He grabbed it and threw it on to the table.  
  
"Getting strong Ronniekins, but we'll always be able to tell when you're joking. Almost had me thinking you were going to throw me into that table over there," Fred drawled, and laughed a bit more. I scowled and began reading the paragraph I had to recopy onto my parchment.  
  
"You're no fun," George said and plopped himself down on a chair next to Fred. Hermione and Harry were talking to each other about a Transfiguration report, "well that's not quite true. You did walk out of Snape's class and that's rather impressive. But why would you do homework on a day like this?"  
  
"Gee I dunno, maybe because it's due tomorrow," I answered and saw Fred and George exchange a glance.  
  
"Ooh Ron.... where's this new disdainful side of you come from?" Fred demanded. I ignored him. Fred sighed.  
  
"So.... you're still taking Divinition?" George wondered aloud, snatching up a previous report I'd done on it, "Cor! 90 %. My dear brother, you have been studying!" Harry and Hermione looked up curiously.  
  
"You got a 90?" Hermione asked. I nodded.  
  
"My word!" shouted Fred loudly, "Hogwarts; A History!?" This was it. I'd never live this down.  
  
"Oh get lost why don't you?" I said exasperatedly. The pair looked around the table, bid their farewells and skipped over to Ginny, who had just entered the Common Room. I shook my head, feeling it was hard to believe they got more irritating every year. Then I proceded to continue with my homework.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried, "how come you didn't tell me you got an 89 % on the paper for McGonagall?" I looked up and saw she was holding up my Transfiguration homework from last week and shrugged slightly.  
  
"Not that big a deal," I answered simply.  
  
"Not that big a deal?" Hermione shrieked and began reading aloud, " 'The Moribilus Charm and its Defects, by Ron Weasley. According to Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five the only proper spell to change the color of something is the Moribilus charm. Any other spell is inefficient. The Moribilus charm is used to change the color of any object, but can have disastrous consequences. For example, Stuart the Stubbourn, who refused to disist using this charm in a contest to see how many different colors he could turn a pig in a minute, found himself all of these colours with the pig on his head.' " She stared at me with a look of amazement on her face.  
  
"Hey!" I said, glancing at my watch, "I promised Seamus I'd play chess with him. I'll catch up with you guys later." I leapt to my feet, gathered my stuff into my bag, which was looking as though it might break if I put anything else in it, and bounded out of the portrait hole.  
  
Okay, so I lied. I'm not really going to play chess with Seamus. But lately I've found myself going down to Hagrid's hut to do my homework and talk to Hagrid about Harry and Hermione. I walked down the hall toward the entrance hall when a hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned around and saw Snape.  
  
"Weasley. You missed my class today. Thirty points were taken from Gryffindor. I also wanted to tell you that if you misbehave like that again I'll have to give you detention," Snape said.  
  
"I'm sorry for leaving class Professor," I apologized, "it won't happen again."  
  
"Good," Snape replied and stalked off.  
  
I still can't understand Snape. You'd think after amost five years of being his student I would somehow understand why Snape is the way he is. I've come to realize it must be pretty awful. I know that he was once a Death Eater, so that must make him spiteful. But Harry's been faced with evil and he's not completely spiteful. Yeah.... I'm fooling myself. Harry's turning into Snape. Not quite but seriously, that might be it.  
  
I knocked hard on the door of Hagrid's hut. He came to it and when he saw me he smiled and opened the door wider.  
  
" 'Lo Ron, I was expecting yeh," Hagrid said cheerfully, and I sat down at his table, "Harry and Hermione arguin' again?" He placed a plate of cookies and a pot of tea on the table.  
  
"Well not exactly. The other day they fought really badly. It almost resulted in physical fighting," I said and picked up one of the cookies. I peered at it carefully and decided Hagrid had not baked it. I took a bite out if it and looked up at Hagrid.  
  
"I've known you three fer almost five years. I've never once seen you hurt each other physically. This surprises me. Harry and Hermione fightin'. What was it about?" Hagrid asked. I noticed that his drawl had really started to improve. However, I have reasons to believe Madame Maxime has been coming to visit him during the weekends.  
  
"Well if I tell you, you have to promise not to worry about anything. That we'll deal with it ourselves..." I said looking at Hagrid hopefully.  
  
"Ron, when you come here the talk to me, what you say stays right here." I nodded and took a sip of tea. I wanted something stronger but tea would do fine.  
  
"All right. Well.... ever since the attacks we read about in the Daily Prophet started, Harry hasn't been eating. I mean, he eats a bit during dinner, but not enough for Hermione's satsifaction. And that's where the argument came from, because a worried Hermione can be a nagging Hermione. And I guess Harry didn't want that right at that moment because he grabbed Hermione's wrist," I said, miming it with my own hands," and pulled her into the table so that she couldn't breathe." I looked up to see that Hagrid looked very suprised.  
  
"Was Hermione all right?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"Oh yes. I pulled Harry off of her. But the damage was done. I'm not sure what's up with those two. They won't stop arguing. Every time I come into the room they're either fighting or not talking," I complained and suddenly I was yelling at the top of my lungs, "WHEN WILL THIS STOP? IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY! All they do is fight, fight, fight. Then they look to me expecting me to agree with one of them, and only one of them. I'm always stuck between them and I totally hate it!"  
  
I suddenly felt much better. Not "Oh I think this world really is beautiful!" better, but more like "I got this off my chest..." better. But I still felt empty inside. Like I'd never be completely better. And in a sense, I wouldn't. I took a long sip of tea and looked at Hagrid.  
  
"I'm wonderin' if maybe that's how Harry felt when you and Hermione fought..." Hagrid said gently.  
  
He's right. Hermione and I did put Harry in the middle of our fights. Very often. Maybe it's my turn. But it's so annoying. I guess Hermione had her turn last year and so maybe this is my turn.  
  
"Okay, maybe it is my turn. Maybe I do deserve to be miserable. With hardly anyone to talk to about it and-" I stopped. I was giving out too much information for safety, "with Harry and Hermione, I mean." Hagrid gave me a searching look and I felt rather uncomfortable. "Anyways. I should do some of my homework." I took out my Transfiguration homework and began work on it. Hagrid walked around the hut feeding Fang, watering his bizarre plants and giving me some help on my essay whenever I needed it.  
  
"Hey Hagrid, I got 89 % on the last essay!" I said and grinned proudly. I'd worked really hard on that essay. Just as I was working hard on this one. Hagrid clapped me hard on the back and sent me face first into his table.  
  
"Great Ron!" Hagrid beamed, as he'd helped with that one. I'd never have realized that Hagrid was good at Transfiguration when he was at school. Even though he was expelled from Hogwarts, he's very smart. And he has a lot of information on Transfiguration.  
  
"Yeah. Apparently the example with Stuart the Stubbourn really helped my essay. McGonagall called me up to her desk yesterday and told me if I kept up the good work I could maybe find myself beating Hermione. I doubt that but it was still a very nice compliment!" I said. Hagrid nodded in agreement. I looked at my watch. "Whoa! It's six o'clock! Care to accompany me to the Great Hall?"  
  
"Sure. Just a moment. Let me get my coat and we'll go," Hagrid said and grabbed it from his coat hanger and we set off to dinner. Okay, so life wasn't as bad as I always said it was, but if I could choose to switch lives with someone else, I definitely would.  
  
  
  
That was the first chapter. It isn't interesting yet, but there'll be action in the next one. I promise! Thank for the two reviews. You have made me a happy camper. Please review again and to anyone else, read and review!!!!!  
  
Song identification: Perfect by Maren Ord. I love this song. It's just such an amazing song.  
  
-Tine 


	3. Chapter Two

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: Wow! I'm getting reviews! You don't know how happy that makes me! Just for those reviews, here's the next chapter. I have loads of editing to do before th next update, don't be surprised if it comes out later than a week! Don't forget to review!!!  
  
There's someone I've been neglecting to thank. So here goes. Thanks to my muse, Todd. He makes me write just about everything!  
  
Thanks to my beta-reader, Scott. You've been such a big help!  
  
XOXOXOX  
  
Chapter 2  
  
*** They say that home is where the heart is, But home is only where the hurt is. Pull the wool over their eyes, Forget the worries that you started.  
  
Soft Cell, Where the Heart Is. ***  
  
When I said I wouldn't walk out of Snape's class again, I meant it. However, for awhile after that first time I found myself getting so fed up with Potions that I'd think of any excuse I could to get out of that lesson. Strangely enough, that was where I was when I found out the horrible news.  
  
Harry, Hermione and I were working on the Forgetfulness Potion, when we found out what had happened. And not from the greatest source. Hermione decided it would be best if she went and got the ingredients for the potion and she told Harry and I to work on the written report.  
  
"What should we write?" I said at an attempt to be funny, "Very sorry, but I can't remember what this potion does. But the title sort of rings a bell. I think I forcefed some to Malfoy the other day. Maybe that's why he forgot about dropping the spiders on the floor." I saw the corners of Harry's mouth threaten to turn into a smile, but he fought to remain poker faced. Hermione came over.  
  
"I'll add this stuff and you keep working on the report," Hermione said.  
  
"No," Harry said and Hermione and I looked over to him, "you always tell us what to do. Well guess what. My turn. You write this and Ron and I will do the potion!" Hermione glared at Harry.  
  
"Well I think you'll probably just screw up the potion so I do it because you never seem to want to!" Hermione said, sitting down and crossing her arms over her chest, "maybe we should let Ron decide what we do!" Then they both looked at me. I could feel my blood boiling with anger. I counted to ten, that didn't work. I crossed my fingers, that didn't work. I breathed in and out, that didn't work. I shouted at them, it worked.  
  
"What are your problems?" I asked angrily, but quietly so we didn't attract too much attention, "I'm sick of you fighting every second of the damn day. Why don't you just cool it down. Take a deep breath before launching into an argument because of whether or not the mashed potatos were over-cooked at dinner. Who cares, dammit?" I saw Malfoy look up from where he was sitting. I lost it with him too. "And why don't you mind your own business?" Malfoy grinned and came over to the table.  
  
"Well I heard you say 'Who cares?' and it reminded me of something I read in the paper today. Here," he said and held out the Daily Prophet. I reached out and grabbed it. The headline made my stomach plummet downward fast.  
  
Muggle Orphanage Attacked! Joanne Smith  
  
Yesterday aftrenoon at 1:04 PM, a young wizard who chooses to remain anonymous, was walking by the orphanage, Home for The Orphaned, and was met with a horrible sight. He looked up and saw the Dark Mark floating above the building. It is a well known fact that this mark was shot into the sky whenever You-Know-Who had killed and the sight of it made many people wonder if the dreaded has come. The days when You-Know-Who terrorized were dark times and we are all hoping that we will not be faced with such horror again. For as we well know, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named met his downfall with young Harry Potter, who is now schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We wonder if perhaps The-Boy-Who-Lived really did dispose of the dark lord. We asked the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, what he thought. "It is a proposterous thought. This is nothing to go balistic over. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead." While some of us rest assured that Fudge is correct, there are some who must wonder if Fudge is really just keeping things secret from the Wizarding World. We will definitely keep updates on this. More on page 3.  
  
My hands shook as I read the article. It made me so mad. They talked like they knew what they were talking about. And they didn't.  
  
"It's just too bad. No wait.... it's not. No one cares about a whole lot of stupid muggles. If you ask me, whoever did this, did the world a favor!" Malfoy said.  
  
I looked up, feeling my hands shake from anger. "I didn't ask you," I answered simply, my voice surprisingly steady, "pass me the sloth brain, Hermione." Hermione looked about ready to object but simply handed it to me without a word. Malfoy looked at me a moment and swiftly grabbed the paper out of my hands and walked back to his desk. Hey... I'd scored one over on Malfoy. But for some reason, I didn't feel good about it. And then it occured to me what was wrong. I was.... upset. I wanted to.... well, not cry exactly, I felt like eating a tub of chocolate ice-cream. So this was what it felt like to be seriously depressed. And suddenly I understood what Malfoy had said before he'd showed me the paper.  
  
"And lots of people care," I called to him, before setting to work on the task at hand.  
  
****  
  
It was a Hogsmeade weekend. There were only three more weeks until Christmas vacation, and this was my last chance to get my Christmas shopping done. I decided to do my shopping with Harry and Hermione. Whatever I got for them would be bought another time. I didn't have all that much money with me obviously, but I'd asked Fred and George to help me out and so they had lent me money for it. I told them I'd pay them back when I got the chance and they'd said that I needn't do so. It was kind of surprising but I didn't complain. I had the money after all.  
  
"Maybe I could get Ginny this," I said picking up a glass figurine. The title card next to it said that it was a glass angel. I peered at it but I couldn't see how it was an angel. I put it back down, "never mind." Hermione chuckled lightly and picked something up off the shelf.  
  
"Get her this," she said holding it out for me to examine. I took it from her and looked at it. It was kind of nice. It was a girl holding a snowball in her hand, poised as though she was going to throw it, and there was a dog next to her, poised as though it was going to chase after it. It didn't move, so it wasn't magical, but it was adorable. And the girl kind of looked like Ginny.  
  
"Cool," I said and held it in my left hand as I checked out some other things on the shelf.  
  
Half an hour later I'd found something for every member of my family and now all I needed was something for Harry and Hermione. I'd think about that later.  
  
In the Three Broomsticks, the three of us got a booth and ordered some butterbeer. I took a sip and wished it had just a bit of alcohol in it. When I looked up I saw that Hermione was drinking deeply from her mug. Harry had a faraway look in his eyes as he raised the tankard to his mouth but held it there, seemingly thinking.  
  
I looked up and noticed Malfoy and his two cronies walk into the shop and sit down in a booth rather close to ours. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"So..." I said, looking to Hermione, but she was busy looking at Harry. Worried she was about to start a row I thought quickly of something to say, "how're your parents?" Hermione looked at me, sort of surprised.  
  
"They're fine... why do you ask?" Hermione inquired. I shrugged one arm.  
  
"Just curious," I replied and knew I'd have to come up with something better to say, "so did you hear about Seamus?"  
  
"No, what?" she said, looking only mildly interested.  
  
"He and Millicent Bulstrode might go out," I informed her and Hermione's mouth fell open in shock.  
  
"Really?" she said.  
  
"Yes. And the other day, I was walking by the Charms classroom and the door was open. So I just ducked in for a moment... and they looked a bit busy," I said, cocking my head to the right as if to say 'you know what I mean'. Of course she did.  
  
"No way!" She shouted and a few people went quiet with interest. Harry looked up, now wildly curious.  
  
"Ron... I've been dieing here, trying not to say anything. Millicent and Seamus?" he demanded looking totally shocked.  
  
"No, but the looks on your faces!" I said and began laughing. They both glared.  
  
"Well that may have been a joke," Hermione said and looked around the room to see if anyone was listening, before continuing, "but this really is true. Parvarti told me that she and Malfoy were..." she stopped.  
  
"Yes?" I said, leaning forward in anticipation.  
  
"Dating," Harry put in. I looked to him.  
  
"No FUCKING way!" I shouted and this time even Madam Rosmerta looked over.  
  
"Hey!" the woman said, "language!" I blushed scarlett. I nodded in apology and quickly looked back at Harry and Hermione.  
  
"Are you serious?" I demanded. Harry and Hermione both nodded. "So how come I've heard nothing about it?"  
  
"Well it was only announced yesterday... apparently Malfoy's a great kisser!" Hermione said, looking over at the table where Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were conversing quietly.  
  
"And they've said they're so much in love they're thinking of getting engaged!" Harry said, draining his tankard of butterbeer. He raised his hand for Madam Rosmerta to come refill it. She nodded and began to come over. But Malfoy stopped her before she could get to us and asked if she could refill his glass.  
  
"You're pulling my leg! Parvarti and Malfoy!?" I said and this time it was much too loud. Malfoy's eyes snapped to us and he got to his feet. Coming over to our table, he narrowed his eyes and looked from Hermione to Harry to me.  
  
"What are you saying about me?" he asked.  
  
"We were just saying how you -" I began but was stopped my Hermione's foot colliding with my leg, "ow! What the fuck, Hermione!?"  
  
"Mr Weasley!" Madam Rosmerta snapped, refilling Harry's mug, "if you use that language again I will have to ask you to leave."  
  
"Very sorry, Madam." She sniffed and went back over to the counter.  
  
"Now I will repeat one more time. WHAT were you saying about me?" Malfoy demanded.  
  
"Just that there's a rumor going around that you're dating Parvarti Patil," Hermione said kindly enough, but Malfoy slammed his fist onto the table.  
  
"You were gossiping about me?"  
  
"Why not... you do the same to us," I answered and turned my attention back to Harry and Hermione. Malfoy scowled and went back to his two friends.  
  
"So anyway.... you're pulling my leg right?"  
  
"Of course," Harry said and it didn't have the effect it should have.  
  
****  
  
I stared through the window. It was a dull boring day in Transfiguration, we were just taking notes and working on theory. The snow outside reflected my mood. White, with some grey. I was hating this. This torture.  
  
"Weasley!" McGonagall said and I snapped out of my reverie.  
  
"Yes Professor?" I answered, focusing my attention on the elderly woman's aged face.  
  
"You were not paying attention."  
  
"No I wasn't," I admitted and heard the sharp intakes of breath that the class displayed. At this moment, I honestly couldn't care less if I was punished. "Sorry Professor."  
  
"I'd like to see you after class Weasley," she said. I nodded my head and continued staring out the window, fully aware she knew that I still wasn't paying attention. She said nothing, however.  
  
Suddenly, the bell was ringing and the class was exiting the room at top speed. I couldn't help but want to leave with them. Unfortunately I had decided to act like a smart ass to McGonagall and would be getting my punishment momentarily. I gathered up my books as Neville exited the room his ink bottle smashed all over shirt. I actually smiled. How could anyone be that clumsy?  
  
I put my books in my bag and swung it over my shoulder. I walked over to McGonagall's desk and waited for her to look up. She was marking a test or essay of some sort. I waited patiently.  
  
"Take a seat Mr Weasley," she said. I pulled a chair over to her desk and sat down. She looked up. She had a look I'd never before seen on her face. True, genuine concern.  
  
"I'm sorry for not paying attention, Professor," I muttered, "I.... it was really hot and I just wish I could go out in the sun."  
  
"It's winter. Besides Welasey, that's not why I asked you to stay behind." I hoped she wasn't about to pull her hair out of its bun and jump me. I'd heard some teachers did that if they were attracted to you.  
  
The thought was immediately abandoned when I realized that this was McGonagall. Why would she be attracted to me?  
  
"Well then, why'd you want to see me?" I asked, growing rather impatient.  
  
"Is there anything you'd like to tell me.... anything on your mind? I realize how hard this has been on, well... everyone." I was surprised to hear a fair amount of curious concern in her voice. I shook my head.  
  
"No. There's nothing Professor. I'm fine." Her brow furrowed, McGonagall sighed and told me I could leave.  
  
Closing the door behind me I paused, my hand wrapped around on the doorknob. Had I just thrown my only chance of getting help out the window? Another few moments of thought and it occured to me I did that every day of my life.  
  
  
  
I love you guys so much! You keep my writing fire burning. Here are the replies to your reviews!  
  
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Song Identification: Where The Heart Is by Soft Cell. It just fits this story so well. I really like it.  
  
-Tine 


	4. Chapter Three

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: The people who reviewed this are so awesome! I love you people so much! You deserve to enjoy this next chapter. This one has loads of angst in it, though. It took me a loooooong time to write!! Now to the chapter! R&R!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
*** In places no one would find, All your feelings so deep inside. It was then that I realized that forever was in your eyes, The moment I saw you cry.  
  
Mandy Moore, Cry. ***  
  
With only a week left until the holidays, I found myself with, not surprisingly, very little to feel jolly and happy about. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to feel warm and friendly, it just didn't seem to be in me. The rest of the Gryffindor Common Room was cheery and delightful... but I just couldn't get in the mood. There was a big party in the common room and while everyone partied, I sat in an armchair and read my book. Even Harry, who hardly ever participates in the fun activities anymore, was drinking a mug of butterbeer with Seamus, Dean and Neville while Hermione lectured them about partying on a school night. We did indeed have classes the following day, but no one took any notice of this issue.  
  
There was a lot of noise around me but I barely even realized it. I'd finished Hogwarts: A History last week and was busy reading The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. The book was absolutely fascinating. Not long ago I would have dropped the book on the ground in a fright and run away screaming in the opposite direction, had it somehow fallen into my hands. Now, the fact that it was sitting among Hermione's school things allowed me reason to read it. And while people stared at me like I'd gone mad, I could really enjoy myself without feeling guilty.  
  
But even as I sat there, engrossed in this newly discovered book, I felt empty.  
  
"Ron!" shouted Fred. I sighed deeply and shut the book with a snap. He sat down beside me. I looked around for George. He wasn't there.  
  
"What is it?" I asked.  
  
"Well, why aren't you joining the festivities?" he demanded.  
  
"We have classes tomorrow and I have this huge essay for Snape that has to be handed in to him and-"  
  
"Ron," Fred began, and he looked sincerely worried, "are you all right? What's with all this work? You've never thredded this much about schoolwork. Is there something wrong? Are you okay?" I stared at Fred.  
  
"What's with your blubbering?" I demanded. Fred shrugged.  
  
"You're my only younger brother. I don't want to screw up."  
  
"Screw up what?" I asked.  
  
"Being a good big brother."  
  
"What are you talking about Fred?"  
  
"Well.... I just don't want you to end up like......" he was interrupted by a cry of noise from the center of the room. Neville had just launched himself off a table, onto the floor. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. And then I remembered that Fred had been just saying something.  
  
"You don't want me to end up like who?" I wondered. Fred's mouth remained open a couple of seconds before he swallowed and answered:  
  
"Me." And before I could even register what he'd said, he was beside George and they'd both began to swing dance around the room. Why didn't Fred want me to end up like him? I sat there for the rest of the night, after everyone had gone up to bed and when the fire in the Common Room finally went out, I still had no answer to the question.  
  
****  
  
The Great Hall was filled with the sound of laughter and conversation. It was the school's last meal together before the Christmas holidays. Once again practically everyone was happy except myself. And I so wanted to be joyfull! But.... there was this feeling in the pit of stomach that told me if I hoped for nothing I couldn't be disappointed. So I remained depressed. I was starting to show, on the outside. That was definitely a bad thing. There was always a fine line between the real me and the fake me. That difference was slowly fading.  
  
I gathered some spinach onto my fork and put it in my mouth distractedly. Without realizing it, I ate all my spinach, chicken and potatoes and was left with the peas. I braced myself, for peas always made me gag. I shoved a fork-full in my mouth and chewed fast. It was not a good idea. I coughed roughly and began to choke on the large mouthful. I grabbed my water, drank some and took lovely breaths of air.  
  
"Are you OK, Ron?" Hermione asked. I nodded, drinking more water. Hermione patted my hand with her hers. I looked up and smiled faintly. The food on my plate was soon gone and I began to scoop ice-cream into a bowl. Just as I picked up my spoon to eat some I felt a sharp pain in my temples. I dropped the spoon onto the plate with a loud clank and leaned forward, clutching my head. Everyone sitting around me began to ask if I was all right. Hermione and Harry were both shouting that something was wrong with me when the "headache" passed and I sat up abruptly.  
  
I groaned and swallowed a lump in my throat. I couldn't even figure out what was wrong. It felt like my brain was trying to tell me something. My hands were clammy with cold sweat. I breathed deeply and was vaguely aware of Hermione shaking me slightly. I snapped back to reality and looked around the hall.  
  
"Ron!" shouted a practically hysterical Hermione, "what's wrong Ron!?" I shook my head to chase the lingering thoughts away. Dumbledore was standing up at the staff table.  
  
"I'm all right," I muttered and the Gryffindor table seemingly sighed with relief. Or perhaps they were groaning... simply because I was all right.  
  
"Oh Ron," Hermione said flinging her arms around me, "thank goodness you're all right!"  
  
"Stop that Hermione... I'm completely fine," I replied but the looks on my two friend's faces seemed to be thinking otherwise.  
  
Suddenly the doors of the Great Hall burst open and in ran a frantic person, sobbing hysetrically, soaking wet, attempting to speak. Only a few words were coherent.  
  
"I - in trouble - dead." It was only then that I realized it was Fred. I leapt to my feet, despite the attempts to stop me by Harry and Hermione and ran forward. I fell to my knees at Fred's side and was aware that Ginny was right beside me.  
  
"Fred... Fred what's wrong!?" I demanded, trying not to lose my head. I could feel dread in the pit of my stomach. I could see my fellow classmates and students staring dumbfoundedly at Fred, Ginny and myself. The teachers were making their way over to us.  
  
"Fred!" Ginny cried, tears running down her face, for she too could feel, just as I could, the feeling of unease and horrible dawning.  
  
George wasn't there.  
  
Suddenly Fred grabbed Ginny and I by the collars of our shirts and gasped out a feeble;  
  
"George... You-Know-Who... tried to stop it - couldn't do anything - George... dead." There was an eerie silence all around as sudden comprehension dawned on the people in the room. I gaped at my now unconsious brother and felt the world slipping away from me.  
  
I felt - rather than heard - Ginny burst into uncontrollable sobs and bury her head in my shoulder. As much as I wanted to comfort my sister... I couldn't. For I too could hardly compose myself. I jumped to my feet and fled the hall, despair flooding through me. Right now..... I understood exactly what it felt like to not understand something. And it made me so angry.... I had to run away from it.  
  
I ran down the corridor, I hurried up the stairs. Hurtling through the hall, I burst into the Gryffindor Common Room (the Fat Lady didn't even ask for the password) and went straight up into the fifth year dormitories. There was of course no one there. I sat down next to the window and stared out of it.  
  
I don't cry. I can't cry. Crying shows weakness and - God.... why? Why must everything always end so... horribly. I hugged my knees tightly to my chest and clenched my fists angrily. No.... I won't cry! I won't. I knew the tear was soming before I'd even felt it. It streamed down my cheek so fast it felt like I was standing under a dripping shower spiggot.  
  
It is remarkable - and yet, sad - that you can be silently mourning one moment, and sobbing uncontrollably, your chest heaving with racked sobs the next. Well remarkable as it is, it can happen often. I sobbed and sobbed into my knees. Tears coursed down my cheeks, splattering lightly on my shoulders. I stuck out my tongue to taste my salty tears. It made me cry harder. I was so totally out of it, it took me awhile to register that someone had put a comforting arm around me and was ruffling my hair lightly. When I finally did notice someone was comforting me, I let out a short audible gasp and looked up, my face sopping with tears. I realized with a jolt that it was Hermione hugging me tightly, whispering the soothing words in my ear, running her hands through my very tousled hair, crying right along with me.  
  
I couldn't understand why she was crying. I didn't want Hermione to cry..... but then again, I didn't really want to cry either, but here I was, blubbering like an idiot.  
  
"Why?" I demanded through huge intakes of breath. Hermione rubbed my back gently.  
  
"That's the question that every soul searches for in its existence. Ron, no one really knows why these things happen," Hermione whispered, hugging me so tightly it was oddly painful, "but wherever George is.... it's probably loads better than here!"  
  
"That's the point!" I whispered through my tears, "why couldn't I go with him?"  
  
There is no answer, for Hermione hasn't really heard me in the first place.  
  
****  
  
In the morning Fred, Ginny and myself were sent home to be with Mom, Dad and Bill and Charile and Percy during these times of sadness. So I'm stuck going home on the train, where people will be coming over to me to share their condolances or tell me "they know how I feel". No, they don't. Because what I'm feeling right now is resentment. Resentment to the fact that, after thinking about it all night and during some of the most horrible nightmares I've ever endured, George is indeed dead. They found his body in the Forbidden Forest. Fred is still too torn up to talk much about it so we're not sure why Fred and George were in there in the first place or why Voldemort was there.  
  
But that's not really why I resent all of this. Basically.... Yes, George got out of this suffering world and I didn't, but the fact is, people are going to be patting me on the back in sympathy for the rest of my life. It's not just going to end today or tomorrow or even in a few month or years. It's always going to be there. Because there has come this horrible dawning of realisation to me. I have figured it out. I'm probably going to live as long a Nicholas Flamel, perhaps longer, just so I'll see all my friends and family ripped away from me while I have yet to perish.  
  
It's one of the scariest thoughts of all time so I tried not to think about it. I walked onto the train and sat down in a compartment. In a moment, Fred and Ginny entered after me. They sat down too. Awkward silence. We're all so bloody emotional right now, we can't carry a fucking conversation! I'd better start.  
  
"So.... did either of you hear about Draco Malfoy and.... Cho Chang?" I asked. I was pleased to see Fred and Ginny look up just a teensy bit. I'd have to get better at this! "Well apparently they're getting married."  
  
Oh the look on Fred's face. "They are not!" he shouted. I hid a smile. Even in times of terrible sadness, Fred's thumbs up for a little gossip.  
  
"Actually, they're engaged and they've scheduled the wedding for next summer." I was watching Fred so I only just caught the look of amusement on Ginny's face.  
  
"They're getting married?" she repeated.  
  
"Yes and Cho's pregnant too! So Malfoy felt he just had to propose!" Fred looked completely shocked. I glanced at Ginny and saw she looked smug. She opened her mouth to say something and I immediatly listened hard.  
  
"See normally that would work with me but considering Malfoy's only fifteen and Cho's only sixteen, I have a feeling she's not pregnant, however slutty she is, because I know Malfoy would never propose to - or have sex with - Cho Chang.... because she's a Ravenclaw." I shook my head lightly.  
  
"You look into it far too much, Ginny," I said and all three of us laughed. Not because it was funny, but because we felt we had to.  
  
When the three of us got off the train we hardly expected someone to be waiting for us. However, when we came out of Platform 9 and 3/4 we found Dad stumbling in our general direction. When he saw us, he came over and gathered us up into a bone-crunching hug. In that second I realized that what people said wasn't true to all extents. Sometimes, when something bad happens, a hug can fix it all. But this time, a hug was absolutely useless and ridiculous at the same time. A hug didn't make us feel better, for the only thing that would make us feel better was our own wonderful brother back. I guess Dad felt obligated.  
  
I hugged him awkwardly back because, it seemed to me Dad needed it and he was only hugging us for the hug back. So I hugged him. When we pulled apart I saw that Ginny had started crying, Fred was closing his eyes in frustration. I? I honestly had no clue what I was doing. I think I was walking blindly toward Dad's Ministry Car. Had he gotten it out of sympathy? Of course. I automatically stopped. I wasn't about to ride in that stupid car. And that was when Ginny fell into step beside me.  
  
"Ron...." she said and turned so that she was facing me. I felt this inexcplicable pull and my eyes were ripped to Ginny's. I stared into her eyes. "Ron..." she threw her arms around me and whispered into my ear instead. She was crying so hard I had to strain to hear.  
  
"I think..... I think it's my fault!" she cried. It was like a jolt of realization. I snapped to attention. There was no longer that feeling of unease or unattentiveness or blindness. I stared into Ginny's choclate brown eyes and decided that she was my favourite sibling. Not that I wanted to pick a favourite. But I could tell we'd always be very close. It suddenly occured to me that I'd get over George's death. But if Ginny ever left me.... then, well I'd probably turn into a dementor. With no happy memories left in me. I cuddled so close to Ginny that I could hardly breathe. I decided that I needed to set her straight.  
  
"Ginny," I began and absentmidedly put some auburn hair behind her ear, "if anything, it's my fault. I wanted Fred and George to leave me alone. And now they have -" I stopped. I realized that were a few people staring at us. But besides that, I was completely speechless with shock. I thought is was my fault?!? The thought had never even occured to me but, well, obviously it had. I was not about to cry in front of a bunch of people I didn't know. I ran to the car and jumped in, burying my head in my hands. I cried the whole way home. Not loud tears, quite the contrary. They streamed down my cheeks but they were so silent I wondered if they were really there.  
  
When the car stopped in the driveway I felt a horrible dread. What about Mum?  
  
Everyone got out of the car and when I stayed in my seat Ginny reached in and gently pulled me out. She hooked her arm with mine and steered me toward the door. I begged her not to, whispering an urgent "no, please!" every three seconds. It became a routine. Three seconds.  
  
"No, please!" I whispered. Ginny kept going. One, two, three. "No.... please!" I said a little more urgently. She went on.  
  
"No! Please!" I screamed and it echoed around our property. Ginny stopped.  
  
"What are you scared of?" she asked.  
  
"Everything," I answered before sinking to my knees at Ginny's side. And it was true. I wasn't just afraid of spiders. I was afraid of losing Harry and Hermione as friends, losing Ginny as my sister, I was scared of Voldemort, I was scared of dying..... but most of all..... I was scared of not dying. Because right now... it's just what I wanted to do. And I knew I wouldn't. And that was the scariest thought of all.  
  
I think I must have fainted or fallen asleep of something. Because when I opened my eyes after what seemed like a blink, I found myself sitting in the den. Charlie had just apparated into the room and Bill came right after. I reared back in my seat and the occupants of the room turned to look at me. I stared right back at all of them.... which didn't make sense as there were seven of them. But I didn't question how I looked at them all, simply sat there. They turned their attention back to Charlie and Bill, as did I. I almost keeled over from shock. They had no clue about George. I wished I was them.  
  
"What was the hurry?" Bill demanded, gently after seeing the haunted expressions on his family members' faces.  
  
"Yeah.... I was in the middle of training the new Chinese Fireball we got in yesterday. Coban came running to tell me you needed me to come here. When I consulted Bill, he told me he'd gotten pretty much the same message as I had so we came and - what's wrong?" He'd seen the look on Ginny's face. We all have a bit of a soft spot where Ginny comes in. He ran to Ginny who was sitting next to me. "Why are you crying?"  
  
"And Ron...... you look like you've just died," Bill added from behind Charlie.  
  
"Not me," I answered, dully. The whole room went completely silent.  
  
"What?" Charlie said and Bill quickly scanned the room.  
  
"Omega," Bill whispered and sat down on the couch behind him.  
  
"What's going on?" Charlie said, who hadn't understood what I'd meant.  
  
"I -" Dad tried to say. I watched as no one found the words to say it.  
  
"George is dead," I said, flatly. I really didn't want to cry! I felt Ginny grab at my hand and hold it firmly. Charlie's eyes almost glazed over and suddenly he pulled Ginny and I into another bone-crunching hug. Another one that didn't do a bloody thing. I didn't even hug him back this time. When he pulled away he was crying. When I looked over at where Bill was previously sitting I found no one there. Bill was on the other side of the room hugging Fred furiously. I could hear Fred sobbing uncontrollably and I wanted to be able to cry with him. I looked around for Percy and I could see that even he was crying. He was hugging his knees. As I looked around the room, I saw that I was the only one not crying. And I knew I'd have to be strong... if not for myself, for my family.  
  
  
  
I really don't have any respect for these characters. I just mentally and physically destroy them. I am so sorry for killing George. I ripped out a piece of my heart when I did that. He is one of my favourite characters. But it had to be done. Trust me, I'll make up for it. (No I won't). Now leave a review telling me what you think!  
  
Song Identification: The song for this chapter was Cry by Mandy Moore. I sang this song with my friends in a Variety Show and we were one of the best acts there. It fits into the story a bit, so it's going here.  
  
-Tine 


	5. Chapter Four

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: This next chapter was the hardest to write out of all of them. I took me almost a month to overcome Writers' Block. I had to sweat and bleed, just like Rowling says, to get the ideas to come. I was stuck. I finally got into the flow of things but then I had to figure out a way to.... well read the chapter and you'll see.  
  
I have an apology to make. I've been making a lot of small, stupid spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm so sorry. When I get the chance, I will edit the whole story so it will look better.  
  
Thanks to Scott, my beta-reader. You helped during the tough time I had writing this chapter. I'm so grateful! And thank you, Todd! My wonderful muse.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
**** Somebody shakes when the wind blows, Somebody's missing a friend. Somebody's lacking a hero, And they have not a clue when it's all gonna end.  
  
Michael Jackson, Cry. ***  
  
Back at school, nothing was better. As a matter of fact, it was a whole lot worse than it had ever been. I was so depressed, I'd started burying myself in my work. I was getting better marks than Hermione, which didn't upset her. It was good though, Harry and Hermione hadn't fought since that Potions class when I'd exploded at them both.  
  
Hermione was worried. I could tell. She was always there now. Every moment. I'd turn, she'd be there. I'd look up, she'd be there. I should have been irritated beyond belief, and had it been anyone but Hermione, I would have been. She just always gave me this feeling of security. If she was watching out for me, I couldn't do anything stupid. I felt like I should be angry with her, but I wasn't. I was grateful that she was doing it for me.  
  
I realized that I could never screw up our friendship by trying to make us anything more than friends. So, even though I sometimes felt like just grabbing her and hugging her tightly, I put the constraints on myself and let her carry on looking out for me.  
  
I went to see Hagrid every day now. He always had tea and bicuits waiting for me. That, if nothing else, was the one thing I felt I could count on completely. No matter what time of day I went to Hagrid's hut, he always had tea and cookies waiting for me. And I adored that. It was something I could count on, that wouldn't just stop out of nowhere without any warning. It helped to keep me.... well not happy, I was never happy anymore, but it helped keep me pleasant towards other people. Which was an important thing. I didn't want people thinking there was something wrong with me. Since there wasn't.  
  
That's a lie. There's something wrong with me. Sometimes.... I cause myself pain.... just to see my reaction. I don't really feel anything at all. A couple days ago I punched my hand right through one of the windows of the fifth year dormitories. It was stupid of me, considering Dean and Seamus were playing Exploding Snap at the next bed. They looked at me like I was a freak (which I am) and then they helped stop my hand from bleeding. Afterward I realized that they might not have been looking at me like I was a freak, but maybe they were looking at me sympathetically.  
  
The thing is.... I'm desperately depressed. Often, I feel like there's nothing I can do. Just yesterday, I actually had everything ready to top myself. But I couldn't do it. I realized there were far too many people looking out for me. Hermione, Hagrid and maybe Harry. That was a lot to me. I had the pill bottle in my hand. I had actually, despite my principles, written a letter which had stated why I was going to do it and why I had never been very happy. But just as I was taking the pills out of the bottle, a thought occured to me. What would Ginny think?  
  
I stopped right then and there. I knew I would never do it. Never. I would stay on this dratted world for however long, and I would never commit suicide. Because I was a role model to Ginny, and what kind of brother would I be?  
  
That's when I realized what Fred meant that night during the Gryffindor Common Room party. He'd said that he didn't want me to turn out like him. Because, sure enough, these past few months, I'd become sarcastic and had developed somewhat of a sense of humor that which was very similar to Fred's. Which meant I was only helping Ginny turn out like me. And I knew I'd have to have a chat with her soon. Some time when I knew what the hell I was talking about. I was not a good role- model.  
  
So nothing was better now that I had returned to school and it was all just one big problem that would probably never get solved. Every day, attacks were being reported. Every day, I got a little more depressed. Every day, Hermione got a little more worried. Every day, the school was more on the look out. And every day was just another disappointment.  
  
Another death came about. And it was a lot like to my brother's demise. It happened one night, a month after we'd got back from the holidays. We were in the Great Hall eating breakfast when Dumbledore stood up. The hall went silent in under thirty seconds. It was a little weird. Because Dumbledore hardly ever makes announcements before breakfast and if he does, it's after the owls have delivered the mail.  
  
"I wanted to tell you all something before the mail comes. The newspaper is carrying a story which may devistate a few people in here. Yet another Hogwarts student was killed last night. Voldemort has once again struck. I'd like you all to raise your glasses in remembrance of Dennis Creevey, who's life was cut short last night at approximately nine o'clock. My condolances go out to Dennis' family." No one had lifted their glasses yet for they were all in shock. They had all swivelled around in their seats to stare at Colin Creevey, who's glass was high in the air, tears streaming down his face. Automatically, I lifted my glass into the air as well.  
  
"To Dennis Creevey," I muttered. It started a chain reaction and everyone else did the same. The owls began to deliver the mail to their owners. I quickly got to my feet. I didn't want to see what the newspapers had to say about this. I fled the room so fast I nearly bumped into Colin who was doing just what I was. Running away from it. We both got out of the Great Hall safely and quietly and ascended the stairs together. Just as I was about to say something Colin burst out angrily:  
  
"Don't tell me you're sorry, and don't you dare tell me you know how I feel." It seemed Colin had forgotten what kind of Christmas present I'd gotten this year. I stopped and so did he, realizing who he'd just spoken to. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. The teachers have been saying it all morning. And all last night. None of them know what it's like!" He turned to look at me, his eyes red and swollen.  
  
"Colin....." I started but not really knowing what to say, I tried to defend the teachers, "some of them do."  
  
"Oh please," he scoffed and I could tell he was extremely upset, "don't tell me about some sob story." That got me angry.  
  
"Colin! You're a sob story. Everything about you is a sob story. You're muggle-born. Exactly the kind of person Voldemort would go after. And when he finally got your little brother, what did you think? 'Hey.... I must be the only guy in the world to ever have experienced this feeling of sadness and horrible pain.' Wake up and smell the coffee," I was at it now. No stopping me, "Look at all the people in this world who have lost a family member to Voldemort. You're not the only one. I'm not even speaking for myself here. In fact, this has nothing to do with George. But Jesus, look the hell around you. There's Harry with no fucking parents. And all you can say is, 'don't tell me about some sob story'? The world is a sob story, Colin. Get used to it."  
  
Despite how angry I was, I still felt a little bad for yelling at Colin right when he really didn't need it. But goddammit, he shouldn't have said what he had. I think I got to him though, because he suddenly looked guilty.  
  
"I'm sorry. I understand. It's just..... why Dennis? Why not me?" he demanded and I stepped back so abruptly, it startled Colin. Why was Coling thinking like me? "What I mean is, why did he have to take my brother's life. There are a million muggle-borns to choose from. I'm one. He could have taken my life. But he didn't. Why not? Ron.... you're not even muggle-born. None of your family is. You must ask yourself why the hell You-Know-Who killed your brother." I stared at him considering what he'd said.  
  
"Not really Colin. But now that you've put the idea in my head, I'll think about it. Here's the answer: Voldemort does things that he finds amusing. So if killing my brother makes milk come out of his nose, goodbye George. Sorry for the harsh words, but it's damn true. Voldemort is evil. There is no justification with evil. He does things without asking himself about them. And it doesn't matter to him, because it doesn't affect him. So the answer to your question, Colin, is that he chose your brother because Dennis was there at the right time. Dennis probably just happened to be walking by when Voldemort thought 'why don't I kill this boy and see who it affects.' Because it affects us whether we like to admit it or not." I took a deep breath.  
  
This was turning into one of those lessons. Where you learn something just from having a talk with someone you barely know. Except I wasn't learning anything. Suddenly, Colin turned and walked away. But I'll never forget the look on his face. There was something like anger and sadness, but most of all, there was a look of vengeance. Even more so, a look of helplessness. I had a feeling something really bad was going to happen. And nothing I did would stop it. I was about to follow Colin, when I heard a noise behind me. I turned and saw Hermione. I could tell by the way she held herself that she'd heard all of the conversation. This wasn't good.  
  
I was petrified. I couldn't move a muscle. Hermione stood there in her too-large wrinkled robes, looking at me with wide, blue eyes. Her robes were so long I couldn't see her shoes. Her hair was wet so she'd probably just had a shower. Her hair clung to her shoulders making little damp marks where her hair had hung. She looked..... beautiful. That was my best friend. Everything about her was just so.... Hermione. And I stood there looking at my friend until my eyes began to water and I had to look down so she wouldn't see them.  
  
I thought she was going to scold me. Like everyone else. She was going to tell me how cruel I'd been to Colin. How completely out of line I'd been. I waited, and when it didn't come I looked up to see what was keeping her. She was still standing there, staring at me. So I focused my eyes on hers and took a small step toward her:  
  
"I guess you heard all that just now." She said nothing. For a moment I thought maybe she'd fallen asleep standing up. She hadn't moved since I'd noticed her. The only way I could tell she was awake was by her eyes. They were blinking abnormally often. All of a sudden, she took two steps toward me and threw her arms around my shoulders.  
  
It felt perfect. That;s the word to describe it. Perfect. She just held me like that for what seemed like an eternity. It was way too emotional. Her shoulders began to shake but I knew she wasn't crying. She was just scared..... and so was I.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ron," Hermione whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry you had to say those things to Colin. He was asking you unfair questions." I smiled.  
  
"Hermione.... he's just being a fourteen year old boy who's lost his brother to something he doesn't understand. He has to ask questions... in fact he's supposed to ask questions. But it's all right. I suppose...." I stopped, swallowed the lump in my throat, and continued, "I've come to terms with George's death. I know it's not my fault and that there was nothing I could do."  
  
Hermione pulled away, and the smile on her face was worth the pain I felt. She squeezed my shoulder and guided me back to the Common Room, not letting go of my shoulder during the entire walk there.  
  
It simply felt wrong to lie to Hermione. But I had to do it so that she would let go. Another moment, and I would have begun wondering about things I didn't need to wonder about. For I had not come to terms with George's death. I doubted whether I ever would. I did think it was my fault, despite the fact that I was not the one to whisper the death curse at him, and I do indeed feel like I could have done something. Perhaps if I'd been doing my homework with Fred and George that one moment when Voldemort had decided kill someone, George would still be here. Maybe Voldemort would not have bothered and George wouldn't be dead. But he was..... and that was something I felt I had to insist on coming to terms with. I wouldn't... not ever. But I should at least tell people that I was. To make them feel better.  
  
****  
  
Two weeks passed. I was walking back from the library with Hermione and we were discussing the new book I was reading.  
  
"Jason had real potential. He realized he wasn't a muggle, and you get to really experience it all. It's like you're really there. The description doesn't do that," I said. We were having a debate about whether or not Magic Powers was better at description or voice.  
  
"Yes but Jason had no clue what his surroundings were. It's hard to describe something you don't understand," Hermione explained.  
  
"No it's not," I covered her eyes with my hands from behind. Then I walked her into a random room, "now look," I let go, "where are we?"  
  
"I dunno," Hermione answered, squinting through the darkness.  
  
"Describe it to me," I told her.  
  
"Well. It's very dark. And there's some sort of piece of furniture over there. A chair probably. And there's an - oh wow!" she said softly, "look at that!" She bent and scooped up something from the floor.  
  
"What is it?" I asked curiously.  
  
"It's.... it's a penny," Hermione answered.  
  
"What's a penny?" I asked.  
  
"It's muggle currency. It stands for one cent," she answered matter-of-factly.  
  
"What's a cent?"  
  
"Um.... you can't buy very much with it. It's supposed to stand for good luck," she said, "here." She dropped it in my hand and smiled. She looked great doing it. I shook the thought from my mind and dropped the penny in my pocket.  
  
"Thanks," I replied. Hermione shrugged. We left the room together. When we got into the hall we realized we'd been in the Charms classroom. We quickly made our way up the remaining stairwells and then walked up to the the Portrait Hole.  
  
"Old Magick," Hermione whispered. She always whispered it. She said it was because she was afraid someone would overhear.  
  
"Yes yes, that's it," the Fat Lady replied, in the middle of a huge yawn, and swung forward on her hinges to admit us. As soon as we stepped inside the Common room, Hermione turned to me.  
  
"Thanks for coming with me to study for the OWL's. It means a lot when you're coming because you actually want to," she said looking down at her feet.  
  
"No problem," I answered, looking at mine.  
  
"What caused you to become so involved in your work?" she asked and we both looked up. I sighed. Then I answered as truthfully as I could:  
  
"A snap back to reality." I shuffled my feet for it was a bit awkward. Hermione seemed to get my drift for she looked at me with the utmost sympathy. That should have made me angry as hell, but it didn't. With other people, they always looked at me like they knew what I was going through. With Hermione, it was a lot different. She looked at me like she knew she couldn't understand what I was going through, but she wanted to so badly it hurt. That was what shined through when she looked at me. It made me feel sort of warm inside. "I want to apologize. I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to comfort me when I went psycho the night before the Chistmas holidays. I just -"  
  
"Don't apologize!" she said sharply and I started, "I would have..... I would have done much worse if my brother or sister had died." She whispered the last word, as though she didn't want me to hear it. I was touched. No one had ever looked out for my well being like Hermione just had. She barely tried and yet she did infinitely more than anyone else did. And everyone else was trying way too hard.  
  
"I know... but I laid a burden on you and I'm sorry for that. It won't happen again."  
  
"On the contrary, I hope it does," she said.  
  
"Pardon?" I said, in complete shock.  
  
"I just meant that it's made us stronger. I felt as though we were drifting apart before. But now we're closer than ever," Hermione said, smiling widely, "I wonder what would happen if we went through all that again."  
  
I didn't really feel like going through it again but I didn't say so. I just smiled weakly and muttered something about going up to bed. Later on, when I was lying in bed, I thought about it. And I came to the conclusion that maybe I would go through all of it again. Perhaps.... just to be in Hermione's arms again. That felt good. Just to be hugged and comforted by her by her. And I realized, that meant I'd even go through mr brother's death again. Who knows.... maybe this time I'd be stronger.  
  
****  
  
For some reason, the next morning, I woke up with a jolt. I hadn't been dreaming. Nor had I been scared or anything. For when I looked around the room, there was nothing there that would have woken me. Since I was already awake, I got up. I was still in my robes. I hadn't changed out of them the night before. Well, I wasn't going to bother to now. It was only six in the morning. I could probably fit in a bit of reading time until Breakfast. So I went down into the Common Room and sat down.  
  
It was a very interesting book. It was called School Time. There was a little girl, Janey, and she kept getting really good marks in school. She thought she was some sort of genius. Then she finds out her mother had always gotten good marks in school, but her father had always gotten bad marks until he met Janey's mother and they'd fallen madly in love. Then he'd gotten wonderful marks as well. It was kind of a creepy book. I wasn't sure why, it was just creepy.  
  
I read for about ten minutes when I got this kind of weird feeling. Like someone was watching me. I turned to look behind me and was met with the most horrible sight I'd seen in my entire life. Worse than finding out George was dead. Worse than finding out Dennis was dead. Hanging from the very ceiling by their neck was a person. It was still too dark to see who it was but I quickly jumped out of my chair and stumbled away from the body completely aghast. I was gasping for breath.  
  
I really didn't want to know who it was. It could have been anyone. It could have been any first year, second year, third year, fourth year, fifth year, sixth year or seventh year. But I had a horrible feeling it was a particular fourth year. Automatically it seemed, I screamed. Screamed like there was no tomorrow. I was so scared and disgusted that I could only scream.  
  
Obviously it attracted a whole bunch of people. In fact, the entire Gryffindor house came bolting down the stairs to see what was wrong. I crouched up against the wall and kept yelling. Dean and Seamus came over to see what was wrong and they quickly covered my mouths with their hands. That stopped me from screaming. But not from speaking.  
  
"Look," I whispered and everyone looked to where I was pointing, "It's Colin.... he's dead." There was an eerie silence. Then a thump, for someone had fainted, and then a whole bunch of screams. Suddenly, my eye caught a certain person. Harry. He had an unreadable expression on his face. His gaze met mine and he suddenly bolted out of the common room, the portrait hole slamming shut behind him.  
  
Hermione started to go after him but I quickly ran over to her and grabbed onto her arm.  
  
"Let me...." I requested. Hermione nodded reluctantly and I ran out of the portrait hole. When I got out into the corridor, I could see Harry turning around a corner. I followed him outside. He turned around, and when he saw what I was doing, he broke into a run.  
  
I chased after Harry, trying to catch up. I knew there was only one way I would. I worked up the energy and jumped onto Harry, pinning him front first to the ground. Harry spat snow out of his mouth.  
  
"What the hell, Ron?" he shouted angrily. I got off of Harry and he got to his feet without taking my outstretched hand, "Leave me alone, Ron!"  
  
"Yes I suppose the fact that you just had to throw yourself out of the common room to get down here suggests you really need to be left alone," I said with much disdain.  
  
"Just go away!" he shouted, his back to me.  
  
"Harry!" I said and stomped my foot on the ground in a fit of angry frustration. Harry turned around to look at me.  
  
"What is it?" he snapped. I didn't really know what to say to that. Correction. I knew exactly what to say to that. But what I was going to say, was not appropriate. I thought a moment.  
  
"Christ Harry!" I said, losing my temper, "what is wrong with you!?" There was a moment's silence. I'd said exactly what I shouldn't have said. Me and my big mouth.  
  
"What are you getting at?" Harry asked. I sighed, closed my eyes a moment, and answered.  
  
"Harry. I don't know what happened to you on the night of Cedric's death... but whatever it was, has changed you. You constantly fight with Hermione, you're barely ever happy and lately it's almost like you've forgotten you're my best mate." Harry looked - not angry, really - he looked sort of happy. Almost like he'd been waiting for this conversation to transpire.  
  
"Oh... you're referring to how you acted last year," he answered coolly. It occurred to me that this was exactly what he'd been waiting for. He'd wanted me to say what I'd said. There was nothing stopping me now.  
  
"Yes Harry, let's ignore what I just said and snipe at me about last year," I hissed, my voice shaking slightly, "I've just decided something. You can snap at me all you want but it's not as though I'm going to take you seriously. I'm going to talk," I said and Harry's head snapped up to look at me, "and you're going to listen." It was not a suggestion.  
  
"I've watched you suffer all year. I've said nothing. Sometimes I got a bit fed up and said something, but most of the time, I didn't do a thing. I think I've figured out why I get so angry," I said, unable to hold it in any longer, "it's because you're going through loads of pain and yet - no one scolds you for expressing it. When I snap and let some steam off, people just think - and often voice - that I'm being selfish. I understand why people say it's all right for you to be angry, but why must I hide mine? And now.... when I finally get a moment to have a sincere talk with you, I end up getting the full on burn from your torch of fury. Guess what Harry. My turn." I was so angry, I could see little red splotches all around. "I've taken crap from people since I was roughly the age of five. That is ten years of other people'sshit! Perhaps you understand what I'm saying, for you've gone through much the same as I have."  
  
"I -" Harry began but I cut him off.  
  
"No. Let me finish," I spluttered furiously. I stopped. Then I spoke softer and quieter. "Where have you been for the last three and a half months Harry? I've got to know. I watch you take your anger out on Hermione and I have to wonder what the hell they did to you! Did they torture you? No it's worse isn't it? What happened?" Harry suddenly sat down on the ground cross-legged and put his head in his hands. I knelt down in front of him.  
  
"Harry. It hurts me - to see you..... God Harry," I took one of his hands and held it in mine, "I know it's difficult...." I stopped when I realized Harry was crying. It froze my heart. I watched as the tears coursed down his cheeks basically as mine had days ago when Hermione had comforted me in the dormitory. Harry grabbed his knees and hugged them close to his chest, rocking back and forth. He didn't sob like I did. He just shook, but made no noise at all. It hit me that perhaps I hadn't been very understanding. What was it Hermione had done?  
  
No.... I was going to do differently. I cupped Harry's face in my hands. My thumbs shot out and wiped away his tears. I couldn't stand to see Harry cry.  
  
"Harry stop..." I whispered, "please stop crying. I can't take much more of it." It didn't do any good, for next moment I could feel tears on my face too. We sat there crying, hugging each other desperately. I wanted to feel better but even though the tears were seaping form my eyes like a fountain tap, my horrible, dark feelings could not be washed away. Only then did it occur to me that perhaps I wasn't meant to feel better. Maybe I was supposed to feel pain until the day I died.  
  
A thought like that.... it made me shake with fear. What if I never got out? Supposing George and Fred and everyone else just went away and I stayed here..... what if I never got to leave? It was such a scary thought I stopped crying. But hang on... was that really why I'd stopped? I could hear footsteps. I noticed our surroundings then. We were just on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. This was not the best place for Harry and I to be.  
  
"Harry.... we shouldn't be here," I said, feeling a bit frantic, "I think there's something here."  
  
"There most certainly is," said a voice and a moment later everything went black.  
  
  
  
Oof! That chapter was the hardest one to write. I got Writers' Block, and it took me forever to overcome it. But I did.... in a rather odd way. I couldn't figure out how to kill Colin off. I knew he would commit suicide, I just didn't know how Ron would find him or how I'd make him do what he did. I had something much worse in store for poor Colin! But that'll be saved for something else. So if this chapter seemed weak to you, I'm very sorry! I'll do better in the next two chapters, or I'll try anyway!  
  
Song Identification: Cry by Michael Jackson. You might have noticed a connection here. Two songs called Perfect. Two songs called Cry. It stops here because I couldn't find any other songs that had the same title and had basically the same sort of meaning.  
  
-Tine 


	6. Chapter Five

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: Well here's fifth chapter. I wrote this for two days straight. I swear. I just wrote and wrote and wrote. And then I had tons of beta-reading to do. You guys are totally awesome! Now you have fun reading this chapter. Ten reviews is a lot for me. I'm very thankful to all of the people who have given me feedback. I hope to get more than just a few reviews for this chapter! Hope you enjoy it. You probably won't because this is chock-full of horrible angst. But try to anways.  
  
Thanks to my muse, Todd. Although, those times when he decided to stay up all night partying and getting drunk off his ass, didn't help me one bit. Because then he's too tired to think of ideas to put into my writing and then I get mad and.... it's just not a good thing. But when I need Todd most, he's right there waiting and he gets the job done. So I love him for it!  
  
As always, thanks to my beta-reader Scott, who's hard work amd consistant effort has resulted in this fic. Thank you so much, Scott.  
  
Warning: There is some foul language in this chapter. But it's R rated so it shouldn't be a problem for my trusty readers.  
  
XOXOXOX  
  
Chapter 5  
  
*** There is freedom within, there is freedom without. Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup. There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost. But you'll never see the end of the road while you're travelling with me.  
  
Crowded House, Don't Dream It's Over. ***  
  
I tried to open my eyes but everything was blurry. My head was spinning and my wrists hurt for a reason my mind could not grasp. When the blurriness began to fade, I immediatly wished it hadn't. As I looked around, my eyes took in the dirty, dripping walls. I could hear dripping echoing all around me. And as my eyes adjusted to the dark better, I realised that I was most definitely in a dungeon. As soon as the thought registered in my mind, I tried to flail my arms and legs - only I found that I couldn't. That was when I realised I was chained to a wall by my wrists.  
  
A cold, huge blast of sudden panic came over me and, had I been standing it would have knocked over. I breathed in and out for many minutes, trying to calm myself. There were plenty of reasons why I could be locked down in a dungeon, chained to a wall by my wrists. Perhaps someone had invited me to a tea party and they'd playfully tied me up while fetching some more biscuits.  
  
A tear rolled down my cheek. Why had I been taken hostage like this? Was I the only one? Would I ever see daylight again? Would I ever see my friends and family again? Where was the person who had captured me? When would they be down? More importantly, what would they do when they got down?  
  
I was so desperate to be saved I wondered if I should maybe.... pray. To God. But... did I believe in God? I wasn't sure. Why would God make me suffer like this all the time? Why? I had to know.  
  
"God, if there is a God," I spoke aloud, my voice cracking a bit, "I have to wonder why the hell you make me suffer like this. Did I mess up or something? Must I always be in pain? Does everything and everyone I live for have to disist? If you're really there, God, then just listen for a minute. I don't really care what happens to me anymore. But for my family's sake..... show them mercy. They've been through enough." I was choking on my tears. "Please God. Show my friends mercy. Hermione and Fred and Ginny. And Harry. Especially Harry. He has enough burden, why must you bear him with more? Please..... show all of them mercy. And God..... just..... why am I here? If all I'm here for is to suffer, then why make me here at all? Just kill me, God. Kill me right now." Then I wiped away the tears (it was rather difficult seeing as my wrists were chained tot he wall) and lay my head back against the wall.  
  
I lay there for what felt like ten hours but was probably only ten minutes, thinking about what I would do next. I didn't have my wand with me. What was I going to do?!  
  
"Ron?" whispered a very raspy voice to my right. I jolted out of my thoughts and turned sharply to face my right. Harry was sitting there, in basically the same way I was, his eyes shut firmly.  
  
"Harry..." I said, vastly confused, for none of it made sense, "why are you here?"  
  
"I don't know, I've only been chained down here as long as you have," he replied. I couldn't believe his sarcasm.  
  
"Shut up," I answered simply and he did indeed. About a minute later I remembered that I'd spoken my "prayer" out loud. "Um.... did you here anything I said before?"  
  
"Oh.... only all of it," Harry replied.  
  
"Fuck." Harry laughed a short derisive laugh that didn't suit him. It frightened me a bit, "It's not fucking funny!" Harry laughed more.  
  
"Sure it is. You go asking God to show me mercy, yet you want him to kill you. That's pretty damn hilarious in my opinion," Harry said and finallly opened his eyes. They were a blazing emerald green and I was taken aback by their strong color.  
  
"I wasn't asking your opinion," I murmured and another tear rolled down my cheek.  
  
What if whomever had captured us, was just going to leave us down here and let us starve to death? The thought scared me so much I even considered talking to Harry again. But I didn't feel much like being mocked. Maybe it was a stupid prayer, but I hadn't heard Harry praying at all. Forgetting my ode of silence, I spoke.  
  
"I think -" The door to the dungeon banged open and in walked a masked person holding a bundle of cothes. The person walked right over and unchained the holdings around Harry's and my wrists.  
  
"You can try and run," the man said, seeing the way I glanced at the door, "but there are many other men out there armed and dangerous. Go ahead." He pointed to the door.  
  
"I wasn't going to leave," I answered.  
  
"Good." The man unrolled the two bundles of cloth and I saw that they were robes. "The Dark Lord wants his guests looking good. You will wear these robes to greet him. Put them on and then we will go and see him. You will be joining him for dinner." Harry and I exchanged a glance that shared the same amount of panic in it. I picked up the robe and slowly pulled it on, after stripping myself of the former ones. Harry did the same. "Follow me." He then escorted us down three corridors and stopped outside a pair of doors.  
  
"You will show the Dark Lord respect," the man said, looking mostly at Harry.  
  
"Are you incapable of speaking your own master's name?" Harry hissed. The man raised his hand and struck Harry across the face.  
  
"Hey!" I shouted, "don't touch him!"  
  
"Quiet. You will not yell in here. Now come," he ordered and opened the doors. He shoved us inside and followed after, closing the doors behind him.  
  
"Ah...." said a voice from the head of the table and as I slowly locked my eyes on the person, I just about fainted from shock, "lovely to have you two here. Take a seat over here," he said and patted the seats beside him. Harry, who was still holding his hand to his face, walked over and plopped himself down in the chair. I stared around the room, taking in the faces sitting around the table. I recognized a few of them. Nott, McNair, Avery, the Lestranges.... I jumped in shock. They were supposed to be in Azkaban. Snape was sitting next to Harry. Crabbe, Goyle and Lucius Malfoy..... and sitting right beside my empty spot was none other than Draco Malfoy.  
  
"You," I said and my eyes flared with hatred. Young Malfoy said nothing, but glared defiantly back. It was a glaring contest.  
  
"Sit down," Voldemort said again, and I shook my head, "sit down now!" I sat. I stared around the room. What were Harry and I going to do? My head still pounded from getting knocked out earlier and I wished someone could fix it. I wasn't going to mention it, though.  
  
"Welcome..... it's so lovely to have you here, Harry," Voldemort said disdainfully, smiling at him, "why don't you introduce your friend to us." I could tell it wasn't a question. I started, as the entire room fixed their eyes on me. Harry did nothing at all. He just sat where he was, staring at the table. "Now Harry. Is that any way to treat your host? Ignoring them?" Still nothing.  
  
"Master... perhaps he was never taught about showing their superiors proper etiquitte," said one of the many Death Eaters around the table. I frowned.  
  
"Perhaps. Introduce your friend, Harry." I was getting slightly anxious. Why wasn't Harry speaking to Voldemort? Wasn't he shaking in his boots, like I was, "I see. Well then... what's your name, boy?" I was terrified, then. I was positive Voldemort knew who I was. He wouldn't have kidnapped me if he hadn't known my identity. But it scared me. What would Voldemort do if I didn't answer him?  
  
"What's this? Some sort of unspoken promise of kept silence?" He fixed his stare on me. I shivered. His crimson eyes were hard to look at, "You boy. Do you know what the Cruciatus Curse is?" I swallowed the lump in my throat but it simply went back into place.  
  
"Yes," I answered and Voldemort looked pleased.  
  
"Would you like to have it cast upon you?" he demanded. I said nothing, "I doubted it. Your dinner is served." A moment later, every guest had a plate of food in front of them. "Are you going to eat this?" he asked me.  
  
"No," I answered.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You might have poisoned it," I replied. Voldemort smiled.  
  
"But you know I didn't, don't you?" he spoke, his voice not wavering even slightly, "Tell me your name." I sighed.  
  
"Ron Weasley." If this was torture, then it wasn't so bad.  
  
"And this is most definitely not torture," he said and I shuddered, "eat you two.... you have a big day ahead of you." I almost cried right there. I was so scared my hands were shaking. I picked up my fork and put a bit of the food in my mouth, shaking all the while. I was not at all hungry. I pushed the plate away from me and leaned back in my chair.  
  
"Not hungry?" Voldemort asked, seeing my hardly touched food.  
  
"No," I answered.  
  
"Eat while you have the strength, young man. For there will come a time when you won't have the oppurtunity. Eat it now." I shook my head. "Crucio."  
  
It felt like a thousand stabbing knives all over my body. The hot searing pain burned my skin and made me clench the table with my hands. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me, for this was not as painful as I had feared it would be. It kind of scared me. Why wasn't a writhing in pain? Suddenly the feeling was lifted off of me and I was able to sit up straight again. Why hadn't it felt like I was dying? The other people in the room obviously wondered that too, for they were staring at Voldemort, looking for answers. But I wasn't looking at Voldemort, I was looking at Harry. And he was looking at me with a question look on his face. I shrugged, for I had no idea why I wasn't so horribly affected.  
  
"Well then...." Voldemort said, "if you're not going to eat then you'll be sent back to the dungeons." I stared into Voldemort's eyes. For some reason I felt like I had strength enough to stand up to Voldemort. "Right. Take him back to the dungeons." Weren't they taking me with Harry? No. I got scared then. I got so scared I began to eat my food.  
  
"Very good," Voldemort said and laughed so loud it echoed around the room. I could feel a shiver run down my spine. Suddenly all the Death Eaters began to laugh and the sound terrified me beyond belief. Glancing over at Harry, I could see he was just as scared. "Now let us begin with the ritual. Say your full name, age and what you've done properly since our last meeting. Our guests will be most interested to hear these things. As we know, it's been a very long time since we had a meeting. Before Christmas. So you better have done somehting helpful." I looked up and saw the Death Eaters looking rather uncomfortable, "Crabbe can start." I listened intently.  
  
"My name is Vincent Michael Crabbe. I am forty-three years old. I am the one who killed all those muggles in the Muggle Orphanage," the man said, wringing his hands over his food.  
  
"Very good," Voldemort said and Crabbe looked triumphantly at the people around him, "Goyle."  
  
"My name is Johnathan Goyle. I am forty-five years old. Since our last meeting, I have been coaxing my son to become a Death Eater."  
  
"Not good enough, Goyle," Voldemort said and Goyle bent his head low.  
  
"Lucius," Voldemort said, turning his gaze on Malfoy.  
  
"My name is Lucius Harod Malfoy and I am thirty-seven years old. I was the one who killed the mudblood at Hogwarts, Dennis Creevey, which resulted in the suicide of Colin Creevey. I also killed....." and his eyes slowly fell on me, "George Weasley. But I believe we are already aware of that." And Lucius' mouth tucked into a wide smirk. Voldemort laughed and continued on around the table.  
  
Rage such as I had never felt in my life swelled inside me. I could feel my blood boiling, bubbling inside my veins. My hands were shaking so much they shook the table, which they held onto with a vice-like grip. My knuckles were snow-white. I was seeing red. I was so angry, tears were actually in my eyes. Suddenly the plate in front of Lucis shattered into a million pieces, which cut into Lucius' face and arms. In any normal curcumstance, I would have realized what I'd just done and tried to calm down. But right now, I was so angry, there was no stopping me. The plates in front of Crabbe and Goyle quickly erupted, then one by one, the rest of them did. Except for mine and Harry's.  
  
There was utter silence. Every face around the table was bleeding freely. Except Voldemort's and mine and Harry's. I didn't bother to wonder why Voldemort wasn't cut up, I just stared at my plate. I was still very angry.  
  
"Well, well, well," Voldemort said and I could feel his gaze on me. I slowly looked up, "we have a powerful wizard on our hands. Two powerful wizards on our hands," he said directing his attention to Harry. "Tell me. How has your year been?"  
  
"Grand," Harry muttered, but loud enough for the table to hear. I wished I could calm myself down, but my breathing was coming in short bursts of breath.  
  
"I do not like being talked to in that tone. Take them both back to the dungoens, right now. You're all dismissed. After dinner, I'd like to speak with Malfoy and Snape," Voldemort said. It was suprising how everyone moved in automatic timing to Voldemort's requests. Everyone was beginning to the leave the room when Voldemort spoke again.  
  
"Excuse me. I meant the younger Malfoy." Draco was just leaving the hall as he said that but he came back into the room to hear what Voldemort wanted to say. Lucius gave them a surrepticious glance and then left the room with a swish of his cloak, "take these two out of the hall, please." A guard grabbed Harry by the elbow but when he reached for me I pulled away.  
  
"Don't touch me with your filthy hands," I growled and the man actually took a step away from me. A moment later, though, he grabbed for my elbow again and steered me out of the hall anyway. He led us back into the dungeones and chained us up against the wall, although this time he had a lot of trouble because I kept trying to fight him off. He finally got me chained to the wall and then he left the dungeon, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Harry and I sat in silence for what seemed like for ever, until he finally spoke.  
  
"Can I ask you a question?" he asked, his voice cracking a fair bit.  
  
"Don't have much of a choice do I?" I answered but turned by head so I would hear him better.  
  
"I've been really wondering stuff lately. I'd like to know what you think."  
  
"Shoot," I said and I was sure, even though it was pitch black, that he was grinding his teeth.  
  
"Do you believe in Heaven? And Hell?" he asked and I was so taken aback I didn't answer for several minutes, "Ron?"  
  
"I'm still here," I said, half jokingly, half not.  
  
"Well then, answer my question," Harry said, "Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?"  
  
"Well...." I began and stopped a moment to think about it. I came up with an answer about thirty seconds later, "I believe in Heaven. But not Hell."  
  
"What's Heaven like?" Harry asked quietly. I sighed. Then I answered.  
  
"It's that moment where you're swimming and you're kicking and spreading your arms out, trying to get to the surface, and just when you think you won't make it, you break the surface. It's that beautiful intake of fresh air. When you feel like your lungs are going to burst.... but.... they don't. It's a feeling, I guess. A feeling of refuge. I guess it's somewhere I feel safe." Then I closed my mouth and swallowed.  
  
Harry didn't answer for a little while. So I thought maybe he'd gone to sleep. But all of a sudden he spoke and it startled me.  
  
"Why don't you believe in hell?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know," I answered.  
  
"Yes you do. You're smart Ron. Whether you like to admit it. You have an answer for lots of things. Just tell me why you don't believe in hell. And tell me why you think you won't go to hell," he ordered.  
  
"No," I answered flatly.  
  
"Tell me!"  
  
"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed and it echoed all around the dungeons.  
  
"No. Tell me why you don't think you're gonna go to hell!"  
  
"You want to know why? You want to know why?!" I screamed shrilly and pulled my wrists away from the wall so fast and hard it was painful, "because I'm already there!"  
  
"What?" Harry asked.  
  
"This is my hell," I answered quietly, just loud enough for him to hear me. I didn't talk again for many hours.  
  
  
  
*Crickets chirp* Um... what did you think? I know... I'm so mean. But just you wait..... it gets much worse. Long hours of torture are ahead. Bear with Ron and Harry as they struggle to keep their sanity. I'll stop now before I give the entire chapter away. Anyways, thanks to all who reviewed! You people are so great.  
  
Song Identification: Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House. My parents go married to this song. My Mum and Dad have this huge music collection. They're classic rockers. So I know about all those really old songs and bands most teens don't like or have never heard of. If you've heard of this song or this band, let me know, it's nice to find yet another person who has old parents. LOL! Anyways, I think this song really projects my story. So yeah. That's all.  
  
-Tine 


	7. Chapter Six

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. Any other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: Yo! here's the next chapter. I'm trying to put these out as fast as I can, but I'm being over-whelmed with Homework all of a sudden. You people: Aww man!!! Yeah, yeah I know. Homework is the biggest problem in my life. I'm limited to less hours of writing time than usual. That's why I love the summer. It's a time to really catch up on my writing and reading! Once again, thanks for the reviews. I adore them!  
  
Thanks to my muse Todd. He'd like to say something here, but I won't let him. So he's gonna have a looooooong speech to deliver at the end of this story. It'll be interesting, so look it over.  
  
To Scott. You're the best beta-reader ever. Or at least for me!  
  
XOXOXOX  
  
Chapter 6  
  
**** All these places have their moments, When love is with friends, I still can't recall. Some are dead and some ar eliving. In my life, I've loved them all.  
  
The Beatles, In My Life ****  
  
Many hours later, the dungeon door opened and in walked three cloaked persons. Two of them were carrying wands and had enchanted them with the Lumos spell. A moment later, I realized it was Snape and Draco. I was kind of worried now. I recoiled from the light.  
  
"Severus, Draco," The third person was Voldemort, "I have brought you down here to do a very honourable task. Many would die for it! Some have. But tonight you get to do it without even grovelling at my feet. You get to torture these two boys." I felt Harry stiffen at my right and I knew I was doing the same. I stared at the faces of my Potions professor and my hated enemy. Were they really going to torture us? Oh, God.  
  
"It is an honour, my Lord!" Snape said, and dropped to his feet in front of Voldemort. He kissed the hem of his master's robes and then got to his feet before him. Draco did so as well, only with seemingly less arrrogance. I was so scared my heart was beating painfully in my chest. It seemed to bounce against my ribcage. But I tried to look like I had not been fazed by this. Harry looked like he wasn't but the hands above his head were quivering, as were mine.  
  
"Yes master," Draco said, "it is wonderful to get such respect from you!"  
  
"Yes it is. Now I will stand here and watch you torture them. Go on," Voldemort said and the expressions on their faces changed drastically. They looked a little..... worried? The moment passed and they slowly stepped forward, as though one, and raised their wands. Snape stepped toward Harry and Draco toward me. I braced myself. Draco was the son of a fully- fledged Death Eater. Suddenly, he cast the Cruciatus Curse on me and I cringed in pain. But that's all. Next to me, Harry was screaming, although I could tell he was trying not to. When it stopped, Harry was panting heavily. Voldemort laughed an evil, horrible laugh.  
  
"Continue." Malfoy cast a curse on me which I did not hear. But that soon didn't matter in the least for the pain was much too endearing. It was like I could actually feel a small dagger running down my stomach and into my gut. When it stopped, the pain was so bad it stung for many moments. Next to me, Harry was gasping, moaning, screaming and even crying. I wanted to reach over and gather his hand into mine, but it was still chained above my head.  
  
Another curse, which was much worse than the last one. It felt like my whole body was on fire and even when Draco had taken it off I lay there for at least five minutes, moaning and gasping for air. All the while, I could hear Voldemort's laughter. When the pain subsided slightly, I straightened up and focused on Malfoy. I was surprised at what I saw. He was shaking. Shaking so hard he lost grip of his wand and it fell to the floor in front of my feet. Had I been functioning properly and if I'd had any strangth whatsoever, I would have kicked it across the room. But I was so out of it, I just ignored it completely. Draco bent down to pick up his wand and just before he got to his feet again he whispered, "I'm sorry."  
  
I was so shocked I forgot about the pain I was in. What did he mean? What was he sorry for? I had very little time to think about, for next moment, Draco had put another curse on me. This one was different from all the rest. There was no physical pain. Only emotional. Instead of feeling actual pain, I began to remember past events in my life that had ever made me sad or depressed.  
  
Breaking my leg when I was five and no one coming outside to find out why I was screaming. Getting an award in my second year at Hogwarts for saving Ginny and helping Harry to fend off Tom Riddle. I remember how Dad didn't even thank me and just worried about Ginny all summer. I remembered how in my fourth year when Harry came back from the night of the Third Task looking like he'd been tortured to the point of insanity, yet not being able to do a thing about it. I remembered Fred's dreadful words the night George died. I remembered that moment when I realized I would never be free from this horrible depression. I remembered Dumbledore announcing that Dennis Creevey was dead. The look of utter horror on Colin's face. That moment of understanding between us when I saw him in the corridor the next day. The last time I saw him before he topped himself.  
  
All those things were worse than physical pain. It was like somebody was pinching me when I thought I was dreaming. Only this time, I had never dreamt. Not before any of this had happened, not during, not even now. This moment, out of all the moments I'd had in my life, was the only real one I wished had never, ever happened. With George's death, it was like it had never really been true. Someone had played a sick, cruel joke on me. But now, that joke had become reality. And that moment of realisation was even worse than the moment Fred's mouth formed the words "George... dead."  
  
I began to cry. Worse than I had in my entire life. I began to cry hysterically. I bent my head as far as it would go and just cried. My tears echoed around the dungeons and they clashed horribly with the hysterical laughter coming from Voldemort. What a strange mix. Hysterical laughter and hysterical tears. It made me feel so cold. The tears just streaked down my face. I must have cried like that for at least an hour. It felt like that anyway. The whole time Voldemort laughed. I could hear Harry still moaning in pain and it made me cry even harder. Draco was standing in front of me and after what felt like hours of crying he finally lifted the curse off me.  
  
But I kept crying anyway. I think it must have scared Draco, for he lost his composition completely. He dropped his wand and began to perspire wildly. It was weird. I could hear and see everything around me perfectly, even through my tears.  
  
"Thank you, you two. I'll leave you down here and then you can carry on with the torture that you handle so wonderfully," Voldemort said, turned on his heel and walked out the dungeon door, closing it with a snap behind him.  
  
The snap created a million things at once. I began to cry even harder. It felt like that snap had sent my life for ever into emotional turmoil. From then on, every time I'd hear a door shut I would think, shuddering something mad, about Voldemort's disembarkment. The way he just did it like every single day was yet another day of work. For him.... that was probably just it.  
  
Besides the fact that I cried harder, Snape and Draco both stopped what they were doing and immediatly reached for each other. It was strange. It shocked me so much, I stopped crying. Then, shocking me out of porportion, I heard one of them crying. Crying like I'd just been. And I knew right away, that it was Draco crying. They stood there for a long time and when they finally seperated, Draco's eyes were so swollen they seemed to pop out of their sockets. I knew that's what I must have looked like.  
  
Harry just sat there panting. I got kind of worried after a little while. What had happened to him? Why was he panting like he'd been running a million kilometers. I tried to ignore it, but it seemed to stand out in the silence alll around. It felt absolutely horrible.  
  
There was a long silence then. When Snape spoke I actually started.  
  
"We didn't want to do that." The way he said it..... God, it sounded so true. But how could it be? How could the two of them torture two people and not want to do it?! Neither Harry nor I spoke so he continued. "We've been working for Dumbledore. As spies. You have no idea how hard that was for us."  
  
"I -" Draco began and Harry and I both looked up at the same time. "I'm sorry." I stared at him, but I still didn't say anything. "Say something!" He shouted it so loud It hurt my eardrums.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" I shouted even louder.  
  
"Tell me it's okay!" Draco said, quietly.  
  
"It's not," I answered flatly. Draco looked like he'd been slapped across the face.  
  
"Oh God. What have I done?" Draco demanded of Snape, turning to look at him, "Voldemort made us do it because he knew we were traitors! Goddammit, I'm gonna need serious psycology for this." And he sounded completely serious.  
  
"Of course he knew. He's not a fool," Snape said and it was dripping with sarcasm, "and he left us down here to do more. But we won't. We'll unlock you two. We've got a Portkey with us. We'll use it to get back to Hogwarts."  
  
"Do you expect us to believe you?" I asked.  
  
"You've got no choice," Snape said and he stepped forward again with his wand in the air. Only this time he whispered an unlocking spell.  
  
The moment those binds were off, I jumped up and punched him square in the face. He staggered. The second my fist made contact with it, his nose broke and began to bleed.  
  
"How can you torture an innocent person?" I demanded of him, and then turned on Malfoy. If I'd had a wand with me, I probably would have killed him on the spot. But instead, I said something that would probably remain in his memory for ever:  
  
"You're just like your father."  
  
That one sentence seemed to break his whole world and all of a sudden he grabbed Snape's hand and spun him around so that Snape was facing him.  
  
"Fucking hell!" Draco yelled and began hitting Snape, wherever he could find a place unprotected. Surprisingly, although nothing should surprise me now, Snape did nothing to stop it. He let the biased attack on himself continue, as though it wasn't really happening. "Why did we do this? We could have fought with the other side. Why did we have to do it this particular way? Why did I have to torture someone? It's fucking horrible! Why did Voldemort make us do this? Why does he get his kicks this way, instead of another? Why the hell can't anything go right? Where the hell am I going to go now? Azkaban? I tortured someone. I'll go to fucking Azkaban at fifteen." He was crying again. I turned away, because the sight sickened me beyond belief. Hardly any of those questions had answers. I focused my attention, instead, on Harry.  
  
He was still lying against the wall. I slowly walked over to him. I was terrified Snape had tortured him to the point of insanity. I slumped down next to him and wrapped my arms around him. The body next to me stiffened, and then returned the hug. I was wrong before, hugs can do infinitely more than I could imagine. This one hug from Harry alone, felt like.... God's hug. What Harry said scared me so much I almost pulled away. But that would have meant no more hugging.  
  
"It feels like God is holding us both." I told you it was scary.  
  
  
  
I do believe that was one of the shortest chapters yet. Excluding the prologue, as that's not really a chapter. Speaking of prologues, its complete opposite will be the last chapter. The..... Epilogue! After that I will thank each and every one of my reviewers in one last update. Back to this chapter. It's kind of a scary ending. Because essentially that's the end of the story. The epilogue is there to tie up the untied knots. It's a very emotional time for me. This story is my baby! I've been working on it for the past seven months. Now it'll all end. Or this story anyway. Because while this story ends, it only begins another tale of events that will be classified until chosen to be revealed by myself!  
  
This chapter is dedicated to all those people over there in Warner Bros. Harry Potter and th Chamber of Secrets was such an awesome movie, I'm going to see at least four more times while it's out. Daniel Radcliffe (Harry), Rupert Grint (Ron) and Emma Watson (Hermione) were so much better at acting this time around. Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy) was such a convincing evil guy. Sean Biggerstaff (Oliver Wood) was just as sexy as he was last time. And Dumbledore (Richard Harris R.I.P.) was great. Richard portrayed his perfectly.  
  
As for the nex characters.... Colin Creevey was so annoying I wanted to break his camera, Prfoessor Sprout was hilarious as was Dobby (they did a spectacular job on Dobby). Tom Riddle wasjust amazing. He was evil and sly, yet good and innocent. He was extremely hot, if I do say do myself, and he was very similar to how I imagined him. Now for the very best part in the whole movie. I'm dedicating this story to Maonaing Myrtle, who was absolutely brilliant. She was Perfect, EXACTLY how I imagined her. The way she looked, the way she spoke and the way she moaned and moaped. She was absolutely adorable in every way possible. She was so great!  
  
If you'd like to email me or talk to me in a review about the movie, I'd be delighted to hear from you!  
  
Song Identification: That was In My Life by The Beatles. I adore the Beatles and that song was written by them. It really speaks to me and whenever I hear it, I feel a little less angry, sad, over-whelmed, tense, uptight, apathetic..... whatever. I just basically feel loads better when I hear it. So if you get the chance, download all of the songs that I've put samples of in this story. They're all great.  
  
-Tine 


	8. Epilogue

Summary: Have you ever wanted to take your own life? Not just think about it, but seriously really consider it, turn it over in your mind. Ron does so every day. But can he actually do it? He's the middle pillar holding up a tall building and if he were to cease existince, so would everyone else. But does Ron know that?  
  
Rating: R. It'll get extremely dark in upcoming chapters. Lots of angst. Suicide, death, and much more. You have been warned.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. The writer is making no money off of it and does not claim ownership over it. And other citations will be made where necassary.  
  
Dedication: I'm dedicating this to JK Rowling, who's imagination and amazing mind has put together an incredible story that has inspired me to write this fanfic. Please don't sue me Joanne, I do not claim to own this, for my mind could never compare to yours. Thanks for helping me decide where I want to go in life.  
  
Author's Note: Wow! This is my last chapter. I'm getting teary! I'll go get some tissues. Okay. All better. Thank you, every single one of you who ever reviewed, or even took the time to read this. I am totally and completely grateful to you. You've made this never-ending ride such a wonderful experience and I feel blessed to have people who like my writing. Thank you!  
  
My muse Todd. Stay back after the chapter and you'll get to here his little addition. Careful, he's a bit of a potty mouth. But once he gets going, he forgets all about the swearing and just delivers wonderful, kind-hearted speeches. I hope you'll enjoy it!  
  
Scott! I am so lucky to have you in my life. You have spurred me on to greater heights than where I'm standing, and yet you're right there along with me. That is such a special thing, and so I've sought you out to thank you for being such a wonderful friend. It means the world to me! Just having you as my friend.  
  
I also want to apologize for the excessive amount of spelling mistakes in the last chapter. When I get excited, I tend to type very fast on the keyboard, which leads to horrible typos. I'm extremely lazy, so when I feel like it, I'll fix all the lame mistakes in my story. Thanks again everyone! 8-)  
  
XOXOXOX  
  
Epilogue  
  
*** 'Cause we lost it all, Nothing lasts for ever, I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
Simple Plan, Perfect. ***  
  
Four painfully short months. That's how long it's been. I still remember the moment Lucius Malfoy's mouth formed the words, "I killed George Weasley". I remember the anger I felt. But most of all, I remember the focused hate I felt. The hate I felt for a man who showed no mercy. Lucius Malfoy. In a way, he's worse than Voldemort. Voldemort. I remember his laughter as he watched Harry and I be tortured.  
  
Sometimes I wake up at night, calling out for someone - anyone - to comfort me. But no one ever comes.  
  
I have dreams now. Horrifying dreams.... ones that refuse to let me drift into oblivion, where I can't hear Malfoy's hysterics. I can see clearly, as though Voldemort has pasted pictures on the back of my eyelids, so that even if I close my eyes I see it. Malfoy's hands balled into fists, pummeling into Snape, yelling at him, only because there are no answers.  
  
Sometimes I'll pass Malfoy in the hall and we look into each other's eyes, into the haunted expression. I know what he's gone through and he knows what I've gone through. It's oddly comforting, to know that neither of us can do anything to get away, but at least knowing there's someone else who can't get away. I wouldn't call that friendship, for I doubt I'll ever be able to trust him.  
  
Hermione.... she's so careful around me these days, it's like she's stepping on eggshells when I'm around. It's really hard on her. I hate putting her through so much pain. I hate putting everyone through pain. No one knows what happened that night, but they don't mention it. They can't mention it. They're almost.... scared. Or rather, terrified.  
  
I try telling myself it's over.... that the pain is gone for ever. But it doesn't work. The pain will never be gone... and in a way I know it. I remember a time where I wondered what life was worth living for. A time where I wished there was something more than just getting up in the morning and going to class. And now, painfully so, I am fully aware that there is something much more than just that.  
  
I've figured it out. There is a reason to live. And now that I've found out that I'm not here for the reasons I originally thought I was, I kind of wish I hadn't. I've gotten through this battle with Voldemort.... but what about the next one? Maybe Malfoy and Snape won't be there to help Harry and I. Maybe I won't be there to help Harry. But I want to be, I really do.  
  
Harry. He'll never be free of this either. When I think about how life is so utterly unfair to Harry, I feel as though I'd willingly switch places with him in a second. But perhaps it wouldn't fix anything, for I'm only slightly less screwed up than he is.  
  
And then.... I want to cry. So I lie on my bed when everyone's down in the Great Hall eating lunch, front first in bed. I wait for the tears to come, but they don't. They won't come! I want so desperately to cry that I think back to everything in my life that's ever made me angry or sad. I'm there a long time. And finally, when I've almost given up hope of being able to shed even a tear, they come. And they come like a waterfall. But I make no noise, nor do I move. I just lie there and let the tears soak my pillow and when that side of the pillow is so damp I can squeeze the tears out of it, I turn it over so I can cry into the other side. I'm not sure how long I'm there for and when my pillow is all used up I proceed to use George's old sweater, the one with the G on it. I found it in my trunk just the other day. It gives me many more reasons to cry. I think I must cry myself to sleep, for I wake up later that day and realize I've missed all my afternoon classes.  
  
The saddest thing about all of this, is that there's no closure. I don't have any reassurance that no one else I love dearly will be snatched away from me by the cruel hands of fate. And instead of being upset, I'm jealous. George got out of this world..... and I didn't.  
  
Fred. When I look at him, I know - I don't have to think about it for even a second - that Fred's going to leave us too. I watch the way he slumps down the hall, or the way he eats nothing or the way he stands by the lake, contemplating whether or not to jump in and end it all. Perhaps right now, he's too scared to do it. But later.... when he realizes wherever George is, it's a better place then here, he's going to top himself. And I'll probably let him get on with it. He was meant to do it.... just like I'm meant not to.  
  
And of course little Ginny. The one who asks me what life is worth living for so often I can't keep track any longer. She asked me again just a few days ago.... and this time I answered truthfully. I pulled her into my lap and put my arms around her. I thought a moment.  
  
"Honestly Ginny....." I watched as her eyes filled with tears and I knew she was thinking about George every minute that I was and I knew I had to give her a straight answer, "...I'm not sure that there is a pleasant answer to that question. George is in a better place and the most disturbing thought for me, Ginny, is that I couldn't go with him. I hate being here.... and not because of you or anyone else that I hold dear to me, but because.... you know that feeling you get when you know think there's something you've forgotten to do?" Ginny nodded her head and I smiled weakly before I finished. "I constantly have that feeling. Like life played me cards and I forgot to put one down when I should have. But Ginny, there's every reason to live in this world. Because, if you drop off the planet, the people around you are affected. Ginny... don't contemplate suicide," I said, and put my chin on her shoulder, "I've been there..... it's not a pretty feeling."  
  
Ginny looked at me and started to cry. She said she was sorry for what I go through. And I told her that it was okay and that I was sorry for what she goes through as well. We sat in the common room like that for awhile. I didn't cry that time. But Ginny did. Enough for the both of us.  
  
Four months is how long it's been..... and I can still hear Voldemort's laughter. I don't think I shall ever forget it.  
  
  
  
End notes: Yes yes. It's all very sad. No closure whatsoever. I'm sorry for doing that to poor Ron. But he has to realize that not everything ends beautifully. This installment is over. But the next one should be out after I've written it. Check back here to see.  
  
Thank you to everyone who ever took the time to read and review this story. I'm going to thank three individuals right now.  
  
WitchGirl, who's writes inspiring stories that everyone should take the time to read. WitchGirl has been my regular reviewer throughout this fic and it's been greatly appreciated. I want to thank her for adding me to her Favourite Authors/Stories section in her bio!  
  
Resident Goddess is another person I must thank. She is my favourite author here at Fanfiction because she wrote a story partially for me and because she's yet another inspiring author, who's stories you shouldn't hesitate to look over! She reviewed this story and I'm reletively honoured, so thank you very much RD!  
  
I also want to thank Kiara. Kiara wrote a really amazing Draco/Harry story that I've had loads of fun reading. When I asked Kiara to read and review this story, I wasn't really expecting Kiara to. Because Kiara seemed like a very busy author. But she (or he) did indeed and I'm so very happy. 8- )  
  
Song Identification: I started this fic with the song Perfect by Simple Plan. So that is how I will end it. Thank you everyone.  
  
Sequel: The sequel will be out when I'm done writing it. I'm nowhere near done. I've got the prologue and a bit of the first chapter. Check to see when it gets posted up. If anyone would like to get a notice when it does get put up, send me an email or tell me in a review. 8-) Au revoir!  
  
Lyrics to Perfect by Simple Plan  
  
Hey Dad, Look at me, Think back and talk to me. Did I grow up according to plan? And do you think I'm wasting my time, Doing things I wanna do?  
  
But it hurts when you disapprove all along. And now I tried hard to make it, I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you. Can't pretend that I'm all right, and you can't change me.  
  
'Cause we lost it all, Nothing lasts for ever. I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
Now it's 's just too late, And we can't go back. I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
I try not to think, 'Bout the pain I feel inside. Did you know you used to be my hero? And all the days you spent with me, Now seem so far away. And it feels like you don't care anymore. And now I tried hard to make it, I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you. Can't stand another fight, and nothing's all right.  
  
'Cause we lost it all, Nothing lasts for ever. I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
Now it's 's just too late, And we can't go back. I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
Nothing's gonna change the things that we said. Nothing's gonna make this right again. Please don't turn your back, I can't believe it's all just a talk to you, But you don't understand.  
  
'Cause we lost it all, Nothing lasts for ever. I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
Now it's 's just too late, And we can't go back. I'm sorry, I can't be Perfect.  
  
(Repeat)  
  
  
  
Todd's End Notes:  
  
Hello. I am Tine's goddamn muse, Todd. I'm the one that goes out to parties and gets drunk off his ass. Well do you know what.... at least I help Tine. I could just sick back, relax and let her do all the fucking work, but I don't. I think, think, think every minute of the damn day. (Recognize that line?) Not that Tine doesn't.... but still!  
  
You see (but don't tell Tine I said this), Tine and I are real close. She doesn't think so, but I know so! I don't know what it is, but we're just constantly on the same wave-length. And while I adore it, it can also be a curse. Tine always knows what I'm thinking about. Sometimes, it's just not good stuff. Sometimes I'll think about my parties and so she inserts them into her writing. Sometimes I'll think about..... er.... this is uncomfortable. Ah hell. Sometimes I think about sex (99% of the time I'll admit). Tine's been forced to write about sex a couple times, just because I was thinking about it. And I must apologize for that, as it can often be very graphic.  
  
Ahem. So anyways, where was I? Right! I remember. Writing is a very intellectual gift that every human being has. Not everyone can write well, but at least we can all write. Writing, for Tine, is like a release. You know how there are some people who go out and get drunk or high when they're upset or angry at the world? *Looks at ground, innocently* Well Tine doesn't doesn't really those things. When she's upset, or angry at the world, she simply writes. It doesn't matter what she writes about, or who she writes it for, she just writes. Some people do that through music. Or through art. Being the wonderful Muse that I am, I have a talent for all three.  
  
Well anyway! Don't wanna brag. (Yes I do). I'm simply making a point. If you can get a release through something other than alcohol or drugs or pain, then that's a pretty good thing. If you're here, then you probably love to read. Some people get a release through reading. What about you? What do you do that makes you over the moon with happiness? What makes you happier than ever? What is it you do that creates the wonderful world of complete bliss? Find it, and do as much of it as you can. It'll make you a much happier person. Don't ever let go of that special thing you do. I absolutely loathe to see talent wasted. Especially if it's exceptional talent.  
  
So if you like to write; Write. If you like to play a musical instrument; Play. If you like to draw; Draw. If you like to read; Read. If you like to laugh; Laugh. If you like to sing; Sing. Do what makes you happy. It makes all the difference.  
  
You have now heard the opinion of one person and her muse. Go find more, and think about what yours might be. Thanks to all who reviewed, and good-day! I said good-day! (A/N: That 70's Show Rocks!)  
  
~Todd! 


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